


In The Time We Have

by PurpleMango



Series: Things I Wrote When I Should Have Been Doing Literally Anything Else [7]
Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Childhood Friends, Denial of Feelings, F/M, Female Harry Potter, Fix-It of Sorts, Identity Issues, Independent Harry Potter, Master of Death Harry Potter, Possessive Tom Riddle, Reincarnated Harry Potter, Running Away, Sane Tom Riddle, Slow Burn
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-10-15
Updated: 2021-02-27
Packaged: 2021-03-09 05:35:44
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 8
Words: 32,532
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27019669
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/PurpleMango/pseuds/PurpleMango
Summary: “Promise? You promise you’ll always come back to me?”At this, she grinned. “Tom… if I had any other choice, I would run as far away from you as I could… but-” Her grin grew wider, teasing. “Maybe this means we’re just fated to always be together.”Or,The story of how a strange girl took up residence in Tom's heart, for better or worse
Relationships: Harry Potter/Tom Riddle | Voldemort
Series: Things I Wrote When I Should Have Been Doing Literally Anything Else [7]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1304639
Comments: 87
Kudos: 689





	1. The Boy with Desperate Eyes

It started with fear.

That's how he first met her.

Tom was eight, running from a group of boys, _bullies_ , who wanted to hit him- _break him_ \- and he couldn’t seem to run fast enough. Couldn’t feel anything but terrified. He hated feeling terrified, feeling scared- he didn't want to be weak- anything _but_ the weak little _freak_ that everyone constantly reminded him he was.

And then... there she was.

He'd escaped the boys, but to his surprise, someone was sitting under his tree- the dead one at the back of the orphanage's grounds... some weird girl. Her hair was long and messily tangled as if the wind had been playing with it for a while and she hadn't a care in the world, the locks so black they almost looked blue under the rays of sunlight.

Tom knew the signs of starvation. He wasn't _unaccustomed_ to not getting enough to eat, being the freaky and devilish child that he was, so he had the same knobby knees and stick-like limbs she did. 

He'd never seen a girl so _strange_.

The girls in the orphanage were Matron's favorites, kept pretty, given fewer chores, fed first- they were like plump bluejays while this girl… she was a strange raven, sickly and thin.

This girl was different. 

Her clothes were different- not in an altogether startling way, just not _right_ and there was something odd about her. She was strange. (Like him, one could say.)

Looking back to make sure he had lost his pursuers fully, he then made up his mind, moving over and sitting down in the dead grass next to the strange girl.

For some reason- not one he could accurately parse out, as his mind was sort of jumbled (something about this girl had done that, had messed with his normally clear and ordered mind and he hated it)- unlike the other _precious children_ in the orphanage who he would sooner gut than see smile… he didn't want to hurt this girl.

So he sat down next to her, long knobby limbs matching hers, and he looked over.

And turning to meet his eyes were the _brightest, greenest, most beautiful eyes he had ever seen._

But still, he refused to say anything. 

He was the one to sit down- she had to speak first.

"Oh." Her voice was soft and melodic like the sirens in the old myths that would lure away sailors only to drown them. "It's you."

He didn't know what that meant. ‘ _You_ ?’ _Did she know him? Had she seen him before?_

The girl looked away again, far off into the distance as if she could see the future, and he wondered for a second if like him that was something freaky she could do- he wouldn't be surprised- he could talk to snakes, after all.

"I didn't expect to see you here… but I guess that _was_ what I was thinking of…"

Tom frowned. Was this girl just _mad_? She sounded mad. Maybe she had a head wound or was just… insane. Heaven above knew he didn't want to deal with an insane person, strange or not.

Tom shifted.

Though… she didn't _seem_ insane.

"I never thought I would be sitting next to you like this." The girl glanced over at him and again the light hit her irises, the green orbs lighting up under the sun, and then she was smiling- something soft but sad. 

He’d seen fake sadness. The way a woman would come in and spin some sob story about losing her child and wanting a new one, or some girl would cry about her lost family to get someone to adopt her- all of that was fake and he hated the fakeness of it all... but this? This actually felt real.

Maybe this girl was _actually_ sad.

He shook off the discomfort in his gut at that thought. _It wasn’t his fault._

"Well…" The girl looked at him- really looked at him- before a thin smile curled her slightly chapped pink lips. "May I say, you're as handsome as ever.”

He blinked. _What?_ Handsome? He'd been called some sort of 'pretty'- he knew he wasn't unpleasant to the eye- but never _handsome_ before. 

Not from a girl his age.

Or at least, she looked to be his age.

Then, with all the grace of a ballerina in the body that should have had the movement of a newborn doe, the girl rose to her feet and stretched. And again he was freely offered up a soft, sweet smile. "I don't know how long I can stay… so, might as well make the time worth it."

The girl then was pulling him up to his feet and into a hug.

He stiffened. He'd never had someone touch him so- so _kindly_ before and even as his mind revolted against being so weak as to seek such things, his body was turning to mush in the warm arms.

Surrounded by warmth like nothing he'd felt before, and there was a slight breeze carrying the smell of lavender to his nose, his eyes falling closed as he envisioned that she was the sun and he was a flower greedily sucking up her warmth…

But when he opened his eyes, she was gone.

That was the first time that he met her.

His strange girl.

The girl was fascinating- as strange as she was- and she made up a constant yet tremulous force in his life. She would show up three times a month and then not show up for a few months at a time or even a whole year. 

But she was always hugging him, and eventually, as he got older- nine, ten, eleven- she would peck him on the cheek with a teasing smile like he would see the other girls doing as they giggled and flushed, even if the strange girl’s smile was more knowing than the other girls he’d seen as if she knew something he didn’t.

And even as he tried to make her see he was to be feared, like he’d done with the rest of the kids in the orphanage, she’d just laugh as if he was telling a joke. Because every threat he snarled out, she just told him she’d heard worse and for some reason that made his insides feel _wrong_ , so he stopped threatening her. 

Tom was still the same person. He still didn’t like people. 

The only exception was _her_.

He got his Hogwarts letter in December, accompanied with a Professor that watched him with distrusting eyes as if he was dangerous- and it made him _revolted_ that even in this new world he’d been brought into of magic and opportunity, that he’d maybe be rejected for something that he’d been doing since he was a child.

And as he broke the things in his room and then repaired them with the power that he now knew was magic, he saw a familiar tangle of hair outside, sitting under the dead tree. He put his letter down on his rickety desk and stormed outside.

When he got to the girl, he grabbed her arm in a tight grip and yanked her standing. She’d always been a bit shorter than him, but now that was accentuated as he loomed over her angrily. “Did you know? Why didn’t you tell me? Are you magic?”

Bright green eyes blinked slowly and then that sweet smile crossed her face. “Oh. You got your letter. Happy birthday, Tom.” She tilted her head. “How was it? Did you like Dumbledore? He’s kind of… not great. I didn’t like him that much either.”

“But you’re my age. You can’t have gone to Hogwarts.” His eyes widened with a thought. “Did you get your letter? Did you meet Dumbeldore?”

She shrugged. “Mmm… Not yet. Maybe soon.” Something sad and mournful crossed her face, looking up at him with emotions so strong he could almost _feel_ them. “You know that I can’t go to school with you, right?”

Tom’s lips sunk into a frown. He surely _didn’t_ know that. He had assumed that she would just… keep showing up. That she’d forever be his constant. But then again, no one _else_ ever saw her and maybe- he was going insane? Was it magic? Was she a ghost? Was she _haunting_ him?

The girl smiled and ruffled his hair in her casual and affectionate way. “Darling… don’t think too hard, you’ll hurt yourself.” If anything, she smiled wider at his glare. “I _can’t_ go to school with you because- well- people there are magic and they would see me and that would create some problems… but I can maybe see you if you go to Hogsmeade or off into the woods or the forbidden forest or something like that- I don’t really know the rules, I’m still figuring it out.”

He frowned at this. “Rules?”

She just shrugged it off like a million of the other questions he’d asked. “Everything has rules, Tom. You should know that.” She stood on the tips of her toes to press a kiss to his cheek and he would forever deny the slight flush on his cheeks. “Anyway this might be a good way to make some friends! Other than me, of course, because- well- I want you to be happy, I want you to have friends, and I want you to… I want you to live.” Her smile turned a bit bittersweet as if she was thinking of something far away as it often did when he was around her or she mentioned something about him ‘being happy’. 

It was an odd tick of hers, but he’d gotten used to it.

He frowned. “You’re going to leave again, aren’t you.”

“I do have to leave, yes. I can’t stay here forever, as this is not... where I’m supposed to be.”

Tom still frowned, looking at the ground and fiddled with his sleeves in an unusual show of nerves he only allowed her to see. “I don’t want you to go.”

A hand brushed his hair to the side, tucking it behind his ear- _it was getting a bit long and he needed a haircut, but he despised asking the Matron for money-_ and then warm lips pressed to his forehead. “You’ll be okay. You always are. That’s just how you are Tom.”

He looked up, ready to deny that- to deny that he’d be okay without her, to deny that _in any way he’d be alright with her not by his side_ -

But she was already gone.

And at that moment he realized that he was right. That she was most certainly magic.

She hadn’t returned for almost six months.

It was nearing August, the start of the term for Hogwarts, and Tom was getting antsy. He wanted to see her green eyes- to ask for a hug- to get a forehead kiss- to see a smile- to _anything_. _Something_. He just wanted to feel _human_.

And then she returned.

Two days until he was to go to Kings Cross, he stormed out of Matron’s office after the final argument they’d had regarding him leaving for Hogwarts- he’d eventually _unintentionally_ reached into her mind and twisted it so she’d say yes to letting him go- and he immediately moved outside to sit under his tree.

Then there were hands in his hair and he was about to stiffen, but the warmth was so familiar... “Hey there, darling. You look a bit- well, I would say sadly if you were sad- but I can’t place this emotion. Maybe...” She hummed teasingly. “Melancholy?”

He snorted. “It’s called being angry, you fool.”

“Fool… _never_ been called _that_ before.” She sat down next to him, pressed to him in a long line of heat against his side that he pretended not to enjoy but leaned into ~~instinctively~~ mistakenly. 

“I’m not sure I want to go.” 

Green eyes glanced at him. “Go to Hogwarts? Why not?”

Tom frowned and unlike most of the time- initiated contact with her by taking her hand in his, but he needed this, needed the lifeline she provided. “I’m scared.” 

_And wasn’t that the hardest thing to admit?_

He’d told her about everything. About the nuns and the exorcisms, about the harsh treatment and the starvation and the cupboard- _oh she’d gotten spitting mad at that one for a reason he couldn’t really understand_ \- but never _fear_. 

He’d never admitted his fear to her.

Tom couldn’t look at her, even as he held her hand- maybe if he was holding her hand she couldn’t leave him?

The hand holding his, the warm one, squeezed gently and she leaned into him further. “It’ll be okay. Everything will work out… in the end.” Leaning into his side more and putting her head on his shoulder in a way she could see the sky, she hummed a song. Yet he couldn’t place the song- not something Matron would play on her records- something upbeat and yet sad. 

He shook his head away from the song she was humming and focused on her words when she spoke up again. 

“Maybe… probably… you’ll make some mistakes. But in time, eventually, I’ll be able to stay and we can fix them. Together.”

Tom gripped her hand tighter. “Do you have to leave?”

Her smile did that thing it did when she was upset but didn’t want to show it, something bittersweet and dark, something sad. “Yes.” Her voice was resolute. “Yes, I am afraid I do have to leave. But, well, I’ll see you again.”

Tom looked at her because if anything, that sounded like a goodbye. “You promise?” 

Green eyes found him and stayed. Really stayed. She didn’t like to make eye contact that often but this time emerald eyes found him and stayed, studying him.

And he stared into her, saw her _brilliance,_ and wanted so bad to keep her, to claim her as _his_ and never let her go. She was _his_ strange girl. So he repeated his question. “Promise? You promise you’ll always come back to me?”

At this, she grinned. “Tom… if I had any other choice, I would run as far away from you as I could… but-” And her grin grew wider, teasing. “Maybe this means we’re just fated to always be together.”

He scoffed at the idea of fate meddling with his life but she was moving closer, her hands on his cheeks, and her lips were on his and he was... stunned. 

He’d never thought… 

He never thought he’d- well-... he wasn’t thinking much of _anything_ right now. 

It was sweet- nothing like the hurried face sucking he’d seen other people do. If nothing less, another point of heat, and he felt so very warm as if he’d just ate a fresh batch of cookies that he’d heard only from stories or been wrapped in a hug for a million years. He felt almost floaty when she pulled away and she smiled, _so very sweetly_ , and pressed her lips to his again and he closed his eyes and tried to sink into her warmth…

When he opened his eyes, she was gone.


	2. The Girl Under the Dead Tree

It had ended with fear.

Hair matted with blood- robes ripped and torn- Harry Potter bared her teeth to fight the fear down, to steady her hand as she cast spell after spell. There was no place for fear in war. Elder wand in hand, cloak around her shoulders but not fully wrapped around her, and bloody Gaunt ring on her finger- she personified Death as she fought.

Again and again, she was forced to fight.

First, she hunted down the rogue Death Eaters, fighting for the ‘Light’, for the people that she had protected, and for the cause that had been all she knew.

Then she stood as a front against criminals, drug lords, killers, and other people during her time as an Auror- a time that gave her time to learn that maybe… she hadn’t known what the first war was about. That maybe she hadn’t understood that ‘dark’ didn’t mean ‘bad’ and ‘light’ didn’t immediately mean ‘good’.

And eventually, she'd been forced to fight again, this time to save herself and the few loyal friends she had left from the Order of the Phoenix when they inevitably decided she had too much power.

Harry Potter died the second time, ironically, from a knife to the back.

It began with emptiness. 

Gaps of time in spaces so white she was sure that, _had she been alive,_ it would have blinded her. Gaps of time in the darkness that sucked all feeling out of her so thick there was no hope of seeing anything. And the in-between of Kings Cross, where she ended up staying when she could stay in neither the dark nor the light, thrown into the grey.

She sat in Kings Cross, waiting for a train that would never come, and thought.

Existed.

Harry met him when she wished she could have met the young Tom Riddle- that maybe if someone had shown him kindness, that maybe things would be different. And after she had disappeared from under the tree with the strange boy gone from his place in her arms, she found there was a sign illuminated in red glowing letters, giving the white train station something real and _tangible_.

**~**

**The Train will arrive in** **23** **days**

 **There is** **1** **day before your next trip. Use your time accordingly.**

**~**

She blinked, watching the two sets of numbers click and start to count down into hours and seconds. 

It became apparent to her that she would visit Tom Riddle for each 'trip', but though the time in between each was different and varied, each time she was in a body the same age he was. 

And when the final trip came around, she looked at the handsome teenager before her- only barely fifteen, with so much before him- and smiled. "This will be the last time you see me for a long time, but I am glad you have known love, even if it was only from me and only for a while. Maybe-... maybe it will be alright after all."

Tom sneered, but she could tell he was hurting at the prospect of her leaving. "Where is proof of your love?"

With a soft chuckle, she grabbed the front of his shirt and kissed him bruisingly, unlike the first time she had done it, nipping at his lips teasingly when he tried to deepen the kiss before pulling him into her arms. "Silly boy. Love is not something that can be shown so easily. You have to _trust_ in it."

"The same way I am supposed to trust you when you might never come back to me?" 

There was nothing she could say to the boy without lying, and the silence spoke louder than words. 

_I do not know if I will be able to come back._

Without any notice, the boy sunk his teeth into her neck. Gasping slightly at the pain, she calmed her heart that had spiked in panic, taking a deep breath and stroking his hair gently. "Tom, darling, violence is not always the answer to your problems."

"I claimed you." His voice was verging on desperate as he pulled back, thick with unsaid emotion like the blood on his teeth, eyes darting between hers "You can't leave me now- You're mine!"

Her laugh was soft and sad, reaching up to cup his cheek. "Tom, you more than anyone should know that I am not yours to claim. Not now, at least." 

Then, before Tom's very eyes, Harry faded back into Kings Cross station, a grey version of the Hogwarts Express waiting there. 

The sign had changed.

**~**

**The train for** **Harry Potter, Mistress of Death** **has arrived. Please board. There is no other option but the absorption of your soul into the void.**

**Happy travels!**

**~**

Harry smiled sarcastically at the sign and stepped onto the train, ready to see what this whole fuss was about.

  
  


Harriet Jane Potter, child of the prophecy, said ‘power the Dark Lord knew not’ stared into red eyes that fateful night without crying. The only thought in her too-old-for-her-body mind was: _Oh Tom, sweetheart, what did you do to yourself?_

There was no response (as she didn’t actually say these words) except for the yell of the killing curse and the subsequent reaction- The curse designed to kill hit something that could not die, thus rebounding, even if the reflection lessened the lethality. Said lesser curse hit the man who proclaimed himself 'Lord Voldemort', splitting his already fractured soul. 

Both pieces went in different directions. 

One sunk into the mind of the toddler calmly watching from her crib, the other catapulted out of the house and into a muggle man, effectively possessing him.

And in that reaction, in that split second of clarity, the soul piece possessing the muggle had an epiphany.

_He knew those green eyes, that black messy hair- even as a small child he'd know her anywhere- it was his strange girl._

But it was too late. 

Dumbledore showed up only seconds later as if he had known it would happen, and the possessed muggle watched the old man hide himself off to the side of the house. Watched as Snape ran in and out, Sirius declared war on a man he would not win against, and Hagrid showed up to retrieve the girl from Dumbledore.

And when Harriet, the Girl-Who-Lived, was laid down on the doorstep of people she knew would not love her the way she wanted, in the middle of November… well there was only a second between her being left alone and a flash of white light that faded to show a young girl of questionable age standing where a toddler should have been.

The blanket was picked up and transfigured into a dress, the note into underclothes, and the child-that-was-not-a-child looked down at herself. "Yes… I suppose this will have to do for now."

It was Harry, the Master of Death- _not Harriet, The Girl Who Lived_ \- who walked into the night and disappeared without a trace.

'The Lost Golden Girl' was a widely known conspiracy by the time she was supposed to turn ten (not that she was really counting). Apparently, after ten years of trying to cover up that he'd lost her, Dumbledore admitted his failure and reached out to all of wizarding Britain to help find her.

When nothing came out of the search, it became almost a myth, a conspiracy theory in a way.

Her favorite theories were as followed:

  1. She had been eaten by a dragon
  2. There had never been any Harry Potter and it was one of the Ministry's attempts at propaganda
  3. Lord Voldemort's son had kidnapped her and was raising her to be his weapon to kill Albus Dumbledore in revenge
  4. She had been taken in by the fae folk and become their queen, never to return to the mortal plane
  5. The Potters were really Death Eaters and it had been a set up by the Order of The Phoenix
  6. The Vampires had turned her and was training her in their secret mountain lair
  7. Aliens. Enough said.



She had a running notebook designated especially to collect the more amusing ones in case she needed a laugh on a bad day.

In reality, she had gone to Gringotts to claim the title of Lady Peverell and do a blood-altering ritual, choosing to show up on the steps of an orphanage where she laid low for about six years before _(by pure coincidence)_ being adopted by two people who she found she quite enjoyed the company of.

Nicolas and Perenelle Flamel.

And thus came to be Haresa Flamel, the adopted daughter of the Flamels.

Haresa disliked being a child. There were too many complicated feelings, not enough control, and much too loose a grasp on speech. So she made it clear as soon as she started living with the Flamels that she was going to make her magic keep her eleven until her natural body caught up to her magical body. In this, she was helping out the Flamels with their projects and even running trips to the wizarding marketplaces around Paris before she actually even accepted her letter to Beauxbatons and sent her own short note back.

Staying at the top of her class in quiet solitude for the first couple of years, never really making a ton of friends but never rejecting the company of the few that chose to be around her, she slowly made herself a life with friends that were real this time around.

Even if Nicolas and Perenelle knew exactly who she was- _they had seen the scar on her forehead at the orphanage and many other times before she’d worked with the goblins to magically move it-_ they never spoke of it unless she brought it up first.

She was still Harry- she’d always be Harry- but only in the deep dark recesses of her mind. Everywhere else she was Haresa.

Even so, she knew all too well what was surely inevitable.

And as if fate, during the feast at the end of her sixth year Madame Maxime announced they were to go to England and participate in the Triwizard Tournament.

Another year and she would have been free- left to explore the forgotten parts of the world without a care in the world about whatever Britain was doing- but no. Of course, they had to find her.

The-Girl-Who-Lived? 

More like The-Girl-That-Was-Far-Too-Tired-For-This-Shit.

"And you must go?" Perenelle should have had a thicker accent from her hundreds of years in France, but her voice was still light and airy as ever, even as she frowned deeply. "Olympia must accept she cannot _make_ you go to Britain…"

Haresa just sighed and put her head in his hands. It hadn’t been the first time the woman had questioned her on this subject since school ended a few days before. 

_Damn semi-immortals and their nosiness._

"Elbows off the table, Haresa." The woman said sharply.

When she didn't move, Nicolas chimed in softly. "Perry, mi Amor, Haresa is upset... Let her be so."

There was a soft huff. "She can be upset without the sacrifice of her manners- she is a lady, is she not?" But the tone held less weight than normal as if Perenelle just wanted to repeat it and had no actual investment in making her move.

"I don't want…" Haresa thought about her words, sighing again wistfully and moving to lean back in her chair, arms lying limp on the armrests. "No- no that's not right... I _do_ want to see Tom, but I am afraid of seeing-..." 

_No those weren’t the right words either._

“I am not… _ready_ to see Tom... I don’t think.” She pulled at her hair with a soft groan. “I don’t know.”

It had been over the span of many long years she'd slowly told them about Tom- about her past life- about everything. They had been there when she’d broken down over her old friends betraying her when she’d asked for a wizarding therapist/mind healer because of the memories, and when she’d told them how her heart had broken when she’d seen Tom insane.

_Exactly how she’d tried to prevent him from becoming._

Nicolas looked at his wife for a moment, as if she couldn’t see their loaded glances. "I hear he has gained even more support with the way he successfully implemented a system of magic like the Hogwarts Book of Names to find abused magical children. And since… his- er- return to sanity… he has kept to politics rather than his old ways of chaos and bloodshed."

Haresa pursed her lips, as she already knew this, had known it since the news had first spread.

Lord Voldemort had died and Thomas Slytherin had been resurrected and she knew him _far_ too well to not see that blindingly obvious neon arrow pointing to a trap that was labeled _'Not A Trap'_.

She was unsure. Sue her. As he’d told her himself his first life, he was _very_ persuasive when he wanted to be.

Dismissing that, as this was about the Tournament and not Tom right now, she sighed, pulling on her hair again, if softer this time. "Madame wants me to go. The minister wants me to go. Fleur wants me to go. Everyone is against me on this." 

(Though Fleur Delacour was technically in combination with the French Minister, as they were family, the veela was still one of the people Haresa considered a close friend. Plus the girl had become the new Assistant Headmistress, so she was to go on the trip and wanted Haresa by her side.)

Perenelle raised an eyebrow. "And you? What does _Haresa_ want?"

Pausing to really think about that, she pursed her lips. "I do not think I will miss Hogwarts much longer."

Nicolas smiled. "And your Thomas?"

"He-… I will cross that river when I come to it." Ignoring the glances between the two, she poked at her untouched plate of food once more before sighing for the last time and standing. "One year. I have to just get through the year and then I’ll be nothing more than dust in the wind."

Her parents gave each other a worried look and she knew internally she felt the same.

This next year was going to be hell.

After a summer of researching and traveling the world under the tutorship of a friend of her parents while soaking up the sun, she returned to the French school with a little ball of dread in her chest that seemed to get bigger each day that passed. 

Standing in the carriage, horses pulling them towards Hogwarts with no way of escape, she was almost shaking with anticipation. 

And indignant fury.

"You are making me _what_?"

Madame smiled as if her anger was nothing. "Haresa, you are the most lovely of our school, the most talented, the most honored. The others have accepted they are here to foster good relations, not compete. You are the chosen champion and you will wear the robes to match."

She breathed in through her mouth and out through her nose, trying not to scream. "So you just _decided for me_? For all of the students? What if I don't _want_ to compete?!" 

Competing meant more than a lot of attention- and attention only led to bad things.

Like Tom.

And Dumbledore.

"Haresa, please, no one went into this blindly. Our students understand how dangerous this competition is and wish you to compete, as you are the one who could have the most likely chance of doing so or maybe even winning." Fleur moved to her side, rubbing her arm gently. "Plus, the light green will look good on you- accentuate your eyes."

Again she held in a laugh that might have also been a scream of frustration. Her eyes were the most noticeable feature and they wanted to draw them out _more_? Might as well write her a name tag that had ‘Harry Potter' written on it in all caps!

Taking a deep breath, she released it, vowing to go scream into a pillow the moment she got back to her room.

"I- I am not happy… but I will not try to argue, for fear the Minister might just skewer me." Then she turned on her heel as Fleur chuckled and stalked back towards her rooms.

Merlin help her- this was going to be worse than she thought, wasn't it?

Haresa could hear the clash of staffs on stone, the crackle of fire, and the grunts of the Durmstrang students from outside the hall, frowning and pulling at her uniform. The pale blue color had been replaced with a light summery green and she wasn't happy. 

_Not one bit._

A hand smacked hers in where she was worrying at the edge of her sleeve. "Stop it." Giovanni was a tall boy with a wiry frame and had it not been for his piercing blue eyes, people said they would look like siblings. And in a way, that was the role he chose to fill, acting like an older brother of sorts. But now he was frowning at her. "Do not make me hex you before we even enter the Hall."

Katya, Giovanni's girlfriend and who tended to act like Haresa's older sister smiled softly and reached over to squeeze her hand. "It will be alright Haresa. All is well."

_All was not well._

The doors swung open, the first rows of students showing off their talents and tricks, and then Madame was leaving the spot right in front of her and she couldn't breathe because _the walls were closing in on her and everything was going wrong and she wasn't supposed to be here and-_

A weak calming charm hit her, breaking her panic a bit and allowing her to compose herself. She narrowed her eyes on Gio and at his grin, but huffed, taking his arm. 

They were Head Boy and Girl after all.

Slowly, they gracefully loped into the room, then he turned and waved his wand and she was floating. Up into the air with her hands controlling small turrets of conjured air that moved her in coordinated flips and twists- and it was better than flying on a broom as she was _truly_ _weightless_. 

With a final tuck and flip, she settled into standing on the shoulders of the taller boy lightly, accepting the hand helping her jump down as he smiled at her. His voice was a whisper. "See? Nothing to fear. You were lovely, as always."

"Welcome, Beubaxtons, to Hogwarts. We wish you well in your stay, though I do have one question… Madame, you said you had _already_ _chosen_ your champion?" The voice of Albus Dumbledore rang out across the hall. "It is not every day that a school can decide on one person to compete before the tournament even officially begins, is it?"

Another voice, smooth in its familiarity, rang out around the hall and had her tensing slightly. "Albus, it is not against the rules, is it? The Headmistress most assuredly has good reason for her choice."

"I do indeed, Dumblydore, Monsieur Slytherin." Madame sounded almost offended at anything being said otherwise. 

And then she could tell by Giovanni's amused smile down at her that the Headmistress was beaconing her forward, his hand nudging her.

With a soft sigh of defeat, she let the others in pale blue softly touch her shoulders in silent words of engagement as she walked over to the woman, keeping her eyes on the ground a bit before her. "Madame?"

A large hand rested on her shoulder. "Our head girl, Haresa Flamel," and there came the whispers, "is the best student we have. There is no other that could compete better than her, hence the French Minister has authorized her to be the champion, Goblet of Fire or not!"

At this her head snapped up, eyes finding Fluer and narrowing on her venomously. 

_Well, now she knew who to blame at least._

Fleur grinned back toothily, unashamed, and gave her a saucy wink.

Haresa closed her eyes for a brief moment where she was contemplating murder, before opening them, composed in the best mask of emotionlessness she had. And considering her mind was naturally protected by a barrier of what she liked to think of as 'the wall of stone as black as her heart’, she was sure she looked bored and nothing else. Eyes landing on Dumbledore, she gave a slight curtsy. "Headmaster Dumbledore. My parents speak highly of you."

The man looked a bit thrown, as if he hadn't expected to see her here and so out in the open right away, but bowed his head back slightly. "Miss Flamel, it is a pleasure." It was clear he knew who she actually was, but she hoped for her own sake that everyone would assume that _she_ didn't know who she was- or her first face-to-face meeting with Tom would be _interesting,_ to say the least.

She then looked to the giantess who nodded, and without a glance at anyone else at the head table, she immediately went to Giovanni's side. Her voice was a mutter. "Well… that was horrible."

"Dramatic maybe. Not horrible." He slung an arm around her shoulders. "Should you want- the others and I are more than happy to shield you from the attention. They are sitting at the yellow table."

Glancing at the group of her closest friends, blue silk against the black and yellow robes of Hufflepuff, she nodded. "Merlin, _please_ ." At the boy’s smirk, she punched his shoulder softly. “Oh stop it. I say please all the time- it isn’t _that_ rare."

Fleur moved to sit across from her as they sat down, eyebrows raised. “To who? Your parents?”

Haresa sneered coldly in the way she’d learned from Narcissa Malfoy after the war. “I do, in fact. And next time you decide to do something so _stupid_ , you could at least kiss me while you decide to-” Katya covered her mouth with a hand, even as she kept talking. “-duck meh ovuh.” 

“ _So_ helpful, Katya. It’s not like I can still make out her cursing.” Shilo, a smaller girl with deep ochre skin and smaller features smirked, hand holding up her chin in a lazily elegant way. 

“Quiet you, it’s better than nothing.”

Haresa bit her friend’s hand, staring Fluer down poisonously when Katya yelped, causing Tamar- a well-built boy with forearms thicker than her head whose bronze skin seemed to shine as he tipped his head back- to let out a deep echoing laugh of humor. 

She ignored this. “As I was saying, if you wanted to kill me you could have just told Perenelle about the reason I failed Defence second year.”

Her friends smirked at the memory.

"Haresa you cannot stay mad at me forever! It was the best idea and you know it! Other than Gio and Tamar everyone else is much too _soft_ to compete! No offense Shilo, Katya."

"That does not give you the right to inform me of this the _night before we arrive_!"

Fleur threw her hands up, dramatic in her exasperation and she could feel eyes watching them. "You would have run for the hills! Morgana knows you ‘mysteriously’ disappeared during the Gala I set up for your birthday and that was _much_ less exciting!"

Her nose wrinkled, and her voice came out more petulant than she would have liked. "I would not have. I just had a… overdue vacation... scheduled that day..."

Geovanni burst into mirthful laughter. "So that was _not_ you who stole a broom and broke the wards fleeing your own party? Because I swore I saw that long hair of yours weaving the towers and dodging Madame Apolline..."

Pouting, she whined softly as if in actual pain. "Maybe then give me- I don't know- some _chance_ to say no? You practically strong-armed me into this with your- your sad eyes and pretty words!" The others laughed and she put her head in her hands. "This could not get worse."

So, as usual, it got worse.

"Haresa!" A tall boy with platinum blonde hair stormed over to her. "What- no hello? I thought you promised to sit at the Slytherin table!" Draco Malfoy fumed lightly. "Instead you're here at the _Hufflepuff_ table lamenting your imaginary woes!"

She had met Draco Malfoy when he was vacationing in France a few years ago and she had been working over the summer in a small cafe near the house. After a few arguments and a duel, they had been pen pals ever since. Knowing the others wouldn’t want to move, but trying to appease the blond, for now, she stood and kissed him on either cheek in greeting. "Draco. You look tall. And you’re still pale- like a ghost." He smacked her arm and she laughed. "Sorry, sorry, there’s no place for truth in your perfect Malfoy world- I remember now."

"So rude." The Malfoy heir muttered, before cheering up again. "So you are competing? My father is going to be the Ministry witness for the trials!"

She nodded, knowing already of Lucius Malfoy's place under Tom's thumb and suspecting the man had more than a few fingers in getting the French minister to agree to her _sacrifice_. "And your mother? I hear she is still the most beautiful of the Malfoys."

Draco was torn between wanting to say something vain and his respect for his mother, instead just scowling at her. "You're much nicer in letters. I forgot what a right _prat_ you are in person."

Shilo chuckled from her seat, the girl looking vaguely amused by the boy, eyes glittering with the hint of a smile. "Haresa as a whole is much better in theory. In-person she falls very flat."

Haresa gasped half-heartedly. "Excuse me, I’m not _flat_!" Then she gave a soft snort and muttered lowly under her breath in French. “J'ai un cul, après tout.” ((I have an ass, after all.))

“That- Haresa!” Draco looked flushed.

Remembering all too late that the boy knew French, she raised her eyebrows and put on an innocent face. “What? Did I say something?” 

Her friends snickered.

She hid her smirk, pursing her lips as she patted the boy’s shoulder. “I will sit with you at breakfast, alright?"

“...fine.” With a huff, the boy strode back to the table of snakes, sitting at the very end with his friends.

Sitting once again, she took a sip of her goblet, amused to find it had been filled with sweet wine, and looked at her friends who were all looking at her with grins. “Quiet. All of you. I have a wonderful personality.”

“Is that what the teenagers are calling it these days?” Fleur wiggled her eyebrows, the others laughing as her eye twitched.

“You’re all horrible.”

And if she leaned into Giovanni’s side as she answered Tamar’s questions about the classes offered here- as the whole group had long accepted that she knew more about Hogwarts as a whole- then that was a pure coincidence.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This story might not be as polished as some of my other ones, but I'm having fun writing it, so I'm not too upset about that ^-^


	3. The Man with the Silver Tongue

Haresa's small group entered the charms class set on their schedule and her lips quirked up when she saw Draco had saved them seats with his own little group of Slytherins. Nodding to the others, she approached Professor Flitwick.

Even a half-goblin would be a good ally to have on her side in the coming days and she knew that the goblin race as a whole respected her for the one title she held far too close to her chest. Any dark creature, unless by some weird twist of irony, held Death as their patron deity- and she was essentially the only tangible link to that deity. Hence the fact any person with more than half creature blood that partook in their culture's customs would bend over backward for her should she ask.

It had been fairly easy to get Fluer and Madame to treat her like any other student would after talking to them and most of the other students with creature blood followed their lead closely as if being too respectful would irritate her _(_ _it would_ _)_.

And so when the half-goblin turned around to look at her, he almost fell off his small pile of books, face fading of all color. “Miss- Mistress of-”

“Professor Flitwick.” She cut him off before he could ruin everything. “I am Haresa Flamel, the Head Girl for Beubaxtons, and would like to offer my assistance. If you would please come to me or Giovanni Romano with anything concerning the French students, we will handle whatever issues arise accordingly.”

Again the small man nodded, still stunned. “I- well- it’s an honor-”

Cutting him off, she held out her hand, eyes firm but not unkind. “May your teaching be ever learned from.”

“I-...” The professor seemed to pause, studying her for a long moment, before smiling and reaching out to clasp her hand. “And may Lady Fate ease you into this year of hardships.”

She snorted slightly, but just dipped her head and retreated to her seat. 

“What was that?” Draco looked about ready to interrogate her when Shilo spoke up. 

“Haresa is Head Girl. She and Gio will switch classes, letting the teachers know they are here to help. We wish to lessen the strain our school has placed on the faculty by offering to maintain watch over our own just as we would if we were back home.” 

It was mostly the truth- just leaving out the part about her being the Master of Death. 

Tamar Cemili was the bastard son of a very powerful vampire in India, sent with his mother to France so they could not tarnish the man’s name. Shilo Moristan was the daughter of one of the Seelie fae courts, placed in the human world to learn lessons of kindness and humility, of which the fae did not fully understand. Katya Carson was a half-veela in close relation to one of the higher French politicians, and Giovanni Romano was a vampire- the son of one of the Italian Vampire Royalty. 

The four had been left adrift within their own devices, for the most part, only coming together in the beginning with one purpose- to befriend her- and yet as she had avoided them as long as they had treated her like she was above them, they had finally gotten their heads out of the clouds and the five of them joined as friends to form the Elite of Beauxbatons. 

_(At least, that was what the rest of the school called them when they thought it was safe from their ears.)_

Draco studied them but seemed to accept the answer easily enough.

Classes were basic and rudimentary, as Beauxbatons had a higher standard of education and the older students with their masteries usually spent some or all their free time tutoring anyone who needed it. This helped take the stress of the teachers, hence letting more classes like alchemy, healing, politics, warding, and such be taught. Plus, the school was much better staffed than Hogwarts.

It was not even two days in, sitting at lunch with the Slytherins- as Draco was still slightly clingy- when Professor McGonagall moved to stand across the table from her with worried eyes. “I was told by Miss Delacour to see you, Miss Flamel, if I was having trouble with a student?”

Blinking up at the woman, she nodded slightly. Fleur must have been trying to apologize by letting the teachers that she would not see immediately know about their offer. “Indeed. What seems to be the problem?”

“Well, it’s about one Claudius Naugtell. He was found in relations with a younger student, Gabrielle Delacour, and according to the rules here at Hogwarts-”

“Seventh-year students must not be in relations with anyone under fifth year. Yes, I understand and will deal with it.”

The Professor gave her a surprised look as she stood. “You know the rules?”

Haresa smiled simply. “I read the rulebook before coming here.”

“Bookworm!” Shilo crowded out, getting a snort from Tamar. 

She ignored them and smiled at McGonagall, standing. “Thank you, but really, I have it under control.” The woman looked as if she wanted to say more, but she had already narrowed her sights and was stalking across the hall. When she got near where the problematic boy she had a love/hate relationship with was sitting at Ravenclaw, she draped herself across his back so she could whisper in his ear softly “Hello, Claude…” 

The boy stiffened, a nervous laugh falling from his lips. “Haresa. How- uh- good to see you?”

“What did I tell you about Gabrielle and making out in darkened hallways, Claude?” Her whisper was quiet, lilting.

Turning his head, he gave her an uneasy grin. “That you’d like to join?”

She let her eyes harden into cold emeralds, tone soft but dangerous. “I do not know what she sees in you, but should you disobey the rules that were set for this trip, you will be sent home- or worse- have detention with _me_.”

“Haresa!” Gabrielle stood, eyes wide as she seemed to have caught sight of them where she was sitting at the Hufflepuff table. “It’s not his fault- I swear!”

Haresa straightened and looked at the girl coldly, making her sit back down. Turning back to Claude, she sighed and lost a bit of her icy exterior. “It’s _six months,_ Claude. Behave yourself accordingly. Should I hear of you touching _anyone_ younger than fifth year, I will _not_ be happy.”

“Are you _volunteering_ , Haresa?” His voice was low, but his eyes betrayed how he’d fallen back on running his mouth in a last-ditch effort to avoid her ire.

Eye twitching, her voice was flat. “I think that instead of me dealing with you should another complaint be uttered, I will have _Giovanni_ do the honors.”

The boy swallowed thickly, nodding. “I… I’m sorry, I didn’t… that was rude and…”

Haresa felt her lip curl into a snarl. “Quiet. I’m not upset about the comment you idiot, I’ve dealt with worse. It’s the way you obviously understand that you’re in the wrong and yet you purposefully lashed out as if I’m the villain here when all I’m asking is for you not to put your _hand up the shirt of my friend’s sister in some dingy hallway_ _!_ ”

The table around them, mostly Beauxbatons students, were still as if not wanting to provoke her.

As if she was to be feared. As if she would lash out and hurt them. As if… well, there were a lot of feelings swirling around in her.

A hand settled on her shoulder. “Haresa. Perhaps your hand-to-hand needs some work.” 

Leaning slightly into Tamar, she made herself focus on where her magic was swirling around her and sighed. “If you would deal with this, I’m going to go get into a fight with Gio.” Looking across the hall, she caught her friend’s eyes then turned to stalk from the hall, the boy following her.

When they were gone the Beauxbatons students turned to whisper to Hogwarts and Durmstrang students about the group of beautiful and yet dangerous students who centered around one girl: Haresa, the Queen of Beubaxatons.

After lunch- Giovanni and her coming back to the halls with color in their cheeks, her knuckles bruised and his mouth curved in a smirk- was Potions, the five this time choosing to take the middle three tables at the exact center of the room. 

Haresa was left alone while the others paired up. The seventh year of schooling for Britain was the year of NEWTs testing, whereas in France NEWTs were in the sixth year and the seventh year was devoted to each student starting at least one mastery. 

Haresa was already certified as a Potions Master (as well as having her Defense Mastery), as she had gone in for her certification over the summer, and she was currently working towards her Runes Mastery, so it was well known that unless you desperately needed help or could stand the blunt criticism that she was known for on bad days, that she was to be left alone during Potions.

Professor Snape, dressed more like a stereotypical vampire than she’d actually ever seen any vampire dress, billowed into the classroom with a sneer. Going for a scroll, the man drawled his way through roll call, before pausing at where she knew her name would fall. Dark eyes looked up, deep in their loathing. “Haresa Flamel, our newest celebrity…”

“Sir? I only know of one celebrity here- and as far as Viktor Krum goes, he is definitely not _new_.” Krum was the Assistant Headmaster for Durmstrang and a well-known Quidditch player. At Snape’s indignant look, she just smiled and tilted her head. “Even then, I would call myself more ‘infamous’ than a ‘celebrity’... but please, go on.”

The man looked as if he was able to spit poison, moving slowly to loom over where she was standing. She could feel the four behind her tense. “Miss Flamel, do not think that because of your last name that you will get any special treatment here, much less in my classroom.”

Haresa looked into the dark eyes, letting her mirth bleed into them. “Never, Professor. I wish only to be treated like every other student… but then again, you were the one who first pushed the fact I was special, isn’t that right, sir? So if we take your actions into account, maybe I _am_ something special in this classroom despite your words?”

Snape drew back, eyes still hateful, but there was a layer of calculation in them. “...Very well then.” He moved to call the next name, eyes still watching her, and she knew that he saw the way she held up her hand to relax the four at her back.

The class was fairly simple and she was done within half the time.

She could tell the Professor wanted to come over, belittle and mock her and possibly try to find flaws in her potion, but a quiet knock on the doorframe of the classroom interrupted him from fully forming that plan.

Marie O’Neil, a shy sixth year that had often found her for help in potions looked past the Professor to where she was bottling her potion. “Madame said you could help me during this time? I don’t want to interrupt anything, but-” The girl ducked her head slightly. “I’m having trouble with the new ingredient prep- I’m doing something wrong for sure.”

Before Snape could say a thing, she waved the girl forward. “Come in then. We must get you back to your standard of excellence before your NEWTs or I might have your father after my head!”

The girl smiled, moving over quickly. “Papa actually really likes you.” Daughter of the Head of the (Non-Magical) Irish Mob, the girl was one born of a political family outside of the Delacour's' and Draco that Haresa actually liked to spend time with. 

With an eye roll, she moved to quickly and efficiently clear her workstation. “Liking me does not mean he would not send one of his lackeys to chop off one of my limbs.” 

Marie giggled.

Haresa swatted at the girl with an amused half-smile. “Get your supplies out. Do not think for a second my knowledge of your family will allow you to slack off.”

“Never!” The girl was practically bouncing as she got out her elaborate potions storage, taking out the materials she was having trouble with.

Nodding slowly, Haresa reached into her own extendable bag and took out the professional knife kit Nicolas had gotten her upon her certification. Drawing a thin long blade, she spun it in her hand, smiling when the girl clapped. “Brat. You just come here to see me wield my blades, don’t you?”

The girl flushed lightly. “Guilty.”

Shaking her head, she sectioned out a stalk of Knotgrass for both of them. “Now, do you remember any of the types of cutting you use to prep ingredients? And I will allow more… _obscure_ answers as we need this to stick somewhere in that brain in yours.”

“Erratic jabs with long parries, short slashes combined with short parries, offensive sweeps combined with dancing footwork, and- er- _execution_.”

Nodding, she raised a single eyebrow. “Now let’s start with defense. How would you hold your knife?” The girl paused, before holding it firmly, fully in her hand. “Very good. Now you use the tip of your knife to aim and follow through with the rest during combat, so do the same here. You place the tip down on the mat and then let the rest of the knife follow through.” As she did often when cooking, Haresa diced the Notgrass smoothly. 

Watching closely, the girl mimicked her actions, going a bit slower but getting the movement correct.

Haresa nodded. “Excellent. That is called dicing- and if you pair that with the erratic defense, can you come up with a way to remember it?”

The girl brightened. “Papa is always saying ‘slice and dice’?” 

A snort from behind them, Katya leaning over her bench to smile at the girl, who flushed even more. “Your father is terrifying. It’s a good thing you’re so cute.” 

“Distractions.” Pushing at the girl chidingly, she rolled her eyes.

They went through the other types of ingredients, class almost up, and the girl looked at her curiously. “We never went over execution... What’s that for?”

“That’s when you get irritated enough with the questions and kill your student!” Haresa grabbed the girl and lifted her into the air while spinning, making Marie giggle breathlessly, before setting her down lightly. “Now go on and get out of here before I do that to _you_ and get a bounty put on my head.”

Still giggling, the girl quickly packed up her stuff and skipped out. “Thanks, Haresa!”

Sighing, she slumped against the table behind her and twirled her knife absentmindedly in her fingers. “It’s been a long day. Are days usually this long back home?”

“Maybe, but they usually do not feel it, do they?” Shilo’s thin fingers wove their way into her hair, scratching lightly at her scalp in a way that had the tension bleeding from her shoulders. “We would all understand should you retire early. I hear the forest is forbidden, but one would be surprised should you go off and make friends with the beasts that lurk within…”

“I hear the lake has a giant squid.” She remarked softly, tilting her head back to look at four sets of eyes. “The Durmstrang students would probably not mind should I take a swim next to their ship...”

Glances were exchanged. 

Tamar spoke, voice low and carrying. “Be careful. Should you become sick or get hurt we will be most unhappy.”

With a nod and a wave of her hand, the workstation was cleared and her bag packed. “Goodnight then. And try to stay away from the pumpkin juice- I hear it’s quite sugary and sometimes even addictive.” She moved to meet the dark eyes of the professor watching her, putting the perfectly brewed vial of Draught of Living Death down on his desk before heading for the Beauxbatons carriage.

Having stayed in the icy waters of the Black Lake for what she guessed had been two-ish hours, she finally swam to shore and padded over to where her towel was hanging on a tree branch, wrapping it around herself.

“Miss Flamel.” 

The voice was all too familiar and she paused for the barest of seconds to collect herself before turning with a polite smile. There, in rich green robes made from the finest materials, was the man she knew was Thomas Slytherin. 

He looked… good. 

Tall with broad shoulders- entirely unlike the unhealthy skinny way he had looked as a child and teen- dark red wine eyes watched her from under hair that was perfectly styled (as it had always been). She so wanted to laugh and ruffle that hair and call him her favorite pet names, but instead, she only tilted her head to the side. “...I’m sorry, I don’t think we’ve been introduced.”

He was looking at her as if she was some divine deity as if he could absorb her very being into his by just his eyes alone and a flash of something distinctly _hurt_ crossed his face. But his voice was composed as always. “Thomas Slytherin, the Defense Against the Dark Arts Professor.”

She held out her hand. “Haresa Flamel... It’s nice to meet you, Mr. Slytherin.”

  
  


She was here.

In front of him.

Except… There were so many things different about this girl from the one who had kissed him sweetly and called him embarrassing names under the dead tree behind the orphanage. This version of his darling strange girl was refined, almost withdrawn. Her hair was long and without any knots, her limbs without any of the knobby joints, her eyes not as obvious in their sadness.

Tom looked at the hand extended to him and without knowing why- _this was not his version of the strange girl who he had loved so very much, why was he going so far as to touch her? Why did he still feel so drawn to her?-_ he clasped her hand.

Even knowing she had been swimming in icy waters dangerous for any sane human being, she was still warm, as if the waters had not done a thing to affect her. 

Strange.

“It’s a pleasure to meet you.” He drew his hand back before he did something stupid like dragging her into a hug, to see how this ‘Haresa’ and his strange girl were alike. He then slipped into his patented ‘disappointed teacher’ frown. “I understand that you skipped dinner. Normally that would not be an issue, but as you are a champion in the Triwizard Tournament, the teachers were quite concerned. Your safety until the tournament is completed is paramount and it has been decided that you will be serving detention with me for the next week as to remind you of this.”

It was not hard to play off Severus’ dislike of the girl, Minerva’s uneasiness, and Fillius’ concern to get himself in the position to observe the strange-yet-unfamiliar girl further.

A smile came to her face- something amused and yet strangely fond. “I see. As I am not a student of Hogwarts, Miss Delacour will be taking on my detention for you, so you do not have to worry. And as for being alone… I believe that is a moot point.”

Seemingly to melt from the shadows, a boy moved to rest a hand on one of her shoulders. The girl only looked back to the boy with ice blue eyes and raised an eyebrow. “What happened to not being overprotective?”

“That was before a few of the Durmstrang boys were talking about you at dinner as if you were a piece of meat and one even briefly mentioning cornering you.” A deep scowl lined the boy’s face. “I had to hold Katya back from attacking them.”

Tom understood the sentiment- _wanting to go and find which boys they were, convince Karkaroff to let him pay them a visit-_ but he only clenched one of his hands. 

“Ah.” In a way, the girl sounded completely and utterly unfazed by that. “And are you doubting my dueling? We both know that I’m not opposed to a good surprise attack- or you wouldn’t have tried to surprise me in the potions lab the second year.”

The boy winced as if remembering something painful. “I’ll never forget.”

Nodding with an amused smile, she patted the boy’s hand and looked back to him, eyes still that mix of fond and mirthful. “Well then, Mr. Slytherin, If there is nothing else?” Her eyes were curious as if wondering if he would ask her more questions.

She didn’t recognize him, so it wasn’t that... Maybe it was about the fact he was hiding the title of Lord Voldemort and she was hiding the title of Harry Potter? But even Dumbledore was convinced she didn’t know…

He studied her for a long moment and then shook his head. “That is all. Goodnight Miss Flamel.”

“Goodnight Thomas.” 

He paused, looking back- _maybe she did remember? Could it be? Could she-_

But the girl was walking off with her friend, talking and laughing as if it had been just a pure slip of the tongue.

_How strange._

  
  


Stupid. 

Stupid slip of the tongue- she had barely said 'Thomas' instead of 'Tom'! So close to spilling every one of those cards held so close to her chest!

Haresa hit the side of the bathtub she was lazing in, the fire in her chest burning hot for in a spark of frustration- _she_ _ _w_ anted to live freely and that meant avoiding Tom as much as it did Dumbledore so she could be free once more- she would not be a puppet to a Lord ever again, light or dark. _

Another part of her soothed the thorny thoughts and hushed her self-loathing- _your Tom would never think to do such a thing and anyways, being friendly with him was not giving him any real power over her._

She hated the idea of not telling the man- that had previously been the boy she'd watched grow up- about her being the girl that had visited him at the orphanage, but she was also worried about herself.

_What would Tom do should he find out his strange girl (as he called her) was not only Harry Potter but the Mistress of the one thing he was most afraid of?_

She didn't really want to find out, lest he did something stupid- like try to kill her.

That would really break her heart.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> They're both idiots and I love them ^-^


	4. The Teenager with Too Many Secrets

Haresa didn't sleep well and could see Madame Maxime shooting her worried looks when she decided not to eat much of her breakfast, instead reading quietly while resting her head on Tamar's shoulder.

So many concerns were raised over her lack of appetite by the other Beauxbatons student she eventually closed her eyes and pretended as if she'd fallen asleep so Shilo and Katya could glare people off.

It wasn't until they were sitting in the mostly empty Defence classroom that Katya raised a hand to her forehead. "Are you sick? I've never seen you miss a meal or feint sleep to get away from people."

She whacked the hand away. "I am perfectly healthy, thank you."

Giovanni took her hand, pricking a finger on one of his fangs before nodded to the others. "She's not sick."

"Morgana save us all, Gio, did I not tell you that's an invasion of my personal space?" When the boy only raised an eyebrow she sighed and waved her hand. "Fine fine- I’m worried, alright? Nick and Perry want to come to see me compete and I worry. You know how they are! Should I get a scratch Perry would literally push Dumbledore down the moving staircases!"

There was a low chuckle, Thomas Slytherin strolling into the classroom, face amused. "Then there should be no worry at all, Miss Flamel. I assure you that not only 70% of Wizarding Britain wants to see Albus pushed down a flight of stairs, but the other 30% would watch just because Miss Flamel was the one doing it."

Haresa rolled her eyes.

Shilo used her traitorous magic fingers, scratching at her scalp and pulling lightly at her hair in a way that had her eyes slipping closed, the girl's voice soft. "Your parents won't be coming for another month or two. For now, just focus on your Runes Mastery. We all know you're really only here to compete and most all these classes are basic, so your main goals are tutoring and showing everyone who’s boss in dueling… Okay?"

Katya's voice joined in. "Yeah, you should talk to Madame about dropping Potions- you're way overqualified to be in that class- and at least History. I swear, of all the ghosts to charm you had to pick the History teacher. I swear if I hear him call you _‘Sweet Helen of Destruction’_ one more time, I'm going to throw myself out the window."

Snickering, she let her eyes slowly fall open, regaining her faculties as Shilo took her hands from her hair. "Binns is… sweet, but bit misguided, and honestly I prefer my admirers a bit more- er- _solid_."

"Iv you vant solid, 'ou should let me show you a good time." A Durmstrang boy leaned toward her from a few desks down, winking. "I 'ear green-eyed French girls- very good in bed."

Haresa blinked slowly, before smirking. "I wouldn't know. I’ve never had a green-eyed french girl in my bed. Blue-eyed ones, sure, but never green-eyed gal." Looking at Tamar, she arched an eyebrow. “I do have a thing for dark-haired guys though...” 

“You know very well I could care less for female attention."

"And I'd only kiss you if it gave me tax benefits!" Shilo grinned.

Haresa pretended to pout, though she was fighting off a smirk. "Well… that rules out my plans for the weekend."

Katya snickered. "What? Not gonna ask _me_ if I'd make out with you?"

A low voice cleared their throat and she looked up to catch Tom’s scowl, smiling sort of sheepishly. “Uh... sorry, I seem to have been possessed by a succubus for a moment- please, continue Professor.

Her friends hid their grins well- she was proud of them.

The class was given instruction, the desks put to the side and she was lazily throwing daggers at Giovanni's half-hearted shield while he was talking with Katya, bored out of her mind when a knock at the door had her spinning around.

"Madame said you'd be accepting tutoring time?" A smaller boy with brown hair she recognized as one of Gabby's friends took a small step into the classroom before seeming to lose his confidence. 

Haresa waved him towards her. "Of course. Always. Are you having trouble with a certain spell or need work on your dueling? I promise to go easy on you…" 

Shuffling forward and throwing a glance to the other four who had paused to watch- _they liked to watch her teach-_ the boy shrugged shyly.

With a small smile, she reached out and put a hand on top of the smaller boy's head, turning it back to her. "I don't bite and they won’t either, not unless you hurt me. And since I don't think that’s your intention, then you’re fine. Aren't you friends with Gabrielle?"

The boy nodded.

"Trust me on this then- she's _way_ scarier than me. So what can I do for you?"

Still looking out of place, the boy chewed on his lower lip, before muttering something. She leaned down, tilting her head so she could hear. 

"I- I'm having trouble with my Patronus."

Nodding, she straightened. "Wand out then. Try to do it once for me so I can see what needs work."

The boy got his wand out, trying to cast the spell. Even as his pronunciation was spot on, his wand movement was wrong, and all that came from his wand was a few silver sparks. 

She hummed, holding out her hand. "May I?"

The boy, with a quizzical expression, gave her his wand.

It wasn't wholly unpleasant to handle, so she slowly exaggerated the wand movement, casting nonverbally. A large silver figure came forth. The figure could have been mistaken as a dementor, long tattered cloak seeming to blow in the nonexistent wind while thin hands hung at his sides.

"Whoa! That's so cool! Your Patronus is a dementor?"

She gave the figure a frown when it raised its hand in a rude gesture that had all four of her friends snickering, banishing the silvery image of who she knew was Sirius Black. The same man she’d hired a solicitor under oath to get released before she was even eleven, who she’d made sure was cleared while Pettegrew was locked away. 

Haresa’s voice was dismissive. "Irrelevant. Now the first thing to work on is your wand movement. Your dip and swish are good but the flick is a bit off angle and too short. You're doing it like a toddler with a crayon, you have to be an artist with a paintbrush." Mimicking the movement with the wand, she handed it back to the boy. "Now you."

Again, he was doing it choppy and trying to make it natural without it actually coming naturally, while looking as if he was constipated.

"Hm…" Moving behind the boy who was barely shorter than her, she went to place her hand over his to guide the wand. "Relax. Feel my movement as I guide you and then try to commit it to memory."

She did the movement a few times in guiding him, before stepping away. "Now try it- incantation and everything."

Doing the movement, a light shield was visible for a passing second before sputtering out.

"Very good!" Beaming at the boy, she leaned against a desk. "Next step is the memory you use. It has to be something happy, sure, but the thing no one tells you is that the memory can be _only_ happy, nothing else. It cannot be tainted with such emotions as spite, relief, or sadness. It has to be happy for the sake of happiness, not because your schoolyard bully tripped and fell down the stairs."

"Haresa, are you trying to tell us something?" Katya's voice was mockingly sing-song from across the room.

Without looking, she conjured a dagger and threw it their way, focusing back on the now giggling boy with a small smile that _totally_ didn’t have to do with her friends. _At all_. "Any questions?"

With a small smile, the boy chewed at his bottom lip again. "What memory do you use?"

"The day I got my name." At the boy's furrowed eyebrows she shook her head and smiled softly. "I was abandoned as a child and didn't truly have a name until the Flamels took me in. The memory I use is them giving me the name I use today. Haresa is loosely translated to 'daughter of the sun', because of my golden complexion."

The boy looked a bit more downcast after that. "Sorry… I didn't know."

Chuckling softly, she waved her hand. "It's alright. No one ever asks, so I haven't told many people, but it's not like it's some big secret- don't worry about it." Raising her wand, she grinned. "Though when you get really good at it you can overpower your spells and use other memories. Wanna see what I can do with the _hypothetical_ memory of my schoolyard nemesis tripping down the stairs?"

"Yeah!"

Focusing on the memory, she cast, shoving more than enough magical intent into the spell.

Sirius appeared again, putting his thin hands on his hips, but he was a light reddish color instead of a silver.

"My whole Defense Thesis was a pain to write, but it is possible to form a Patronus with tainted memories, though you have to have an intimate knowledge of how to direct your magic. However, let's stick to purely happy memories for now, yeah?"

They worked together, trying out different memories, and finally, the boy could produce a fairly solid shield. 

She tousled his hair. "You know where to find me should you need help. Now go tell Fluer she owes me a chocolate frog as my usual payment."

Nodding the boy smiled widely and stumbled for the door awkwardly. "Thank you, Haresa!" 

She smiled and turned to her friends, but they weren’t smiling, sitting quietly while sharing glances of hidden meaning. Tilting her head, she looked between them. “What’s wrong? Is it my Patronus- because it’s not a dementor, I swear.”

“You never told us that. About your name.” Shilo’s voice was soft. “We thought…”

“Oh… I- I forgot.” She moved to wrangle her hair into a bun messily, needing to do something with her hands that she could feel tremor slightly. “Things like that- I forget that…” 

_She forgot that the whole world wasn’t constantly in her business, that no one but Perry and Nick knew about her past._

Haresa shifted her weight, trying so hard to keep her lungs breathing- to keep the panic away from gripping her with its icy fingers. “There’s not a lot of good memories, so I tend to keep them under lock and key. Sometimes I forget that…” Her hands shook and she clenched them tightly, shaking her head. 

Memories of war were better left deep _deep_ in the recesses of her brain. 

“Tell us. Is it really that bad?” Giovanni pressed forward, eyes intent, his voice a whisper. “What’s haunting you, Haresa?”

Spinning on her heel, she moved- but he was faster and more composed- grabbing her wrist before the conjured dagger could even get close to him. Her voice was unsteady, her hand shaking. "Stop. Stop there."

The boy in question looked down at her, eyes glinting. "No- you have to face it eventually. We can't keep you sheltered forever, Haresa, not like Nick and Perry do."

"They _do not_ !" This time the dagger sunk into the wall where his shoulder had been, the boy moving in a blur of motion. Baring her teeth she could feel herself shaking more than before, trying so hard to keep herself from crumbling to the panic. "Do not think for a second I am _sheltered_ , Giovanni- When I close my eyes at night…" Her breath stuttered out, hands clenching.

For a second it looked as if the boy would apologize, and then he just smirked and stepped forward, underestimating the strength of her panic. “What _blood_ do you have on your hands, Haresa?”

Kneeing him in the crotch, Haresa stepped away, fists clenched and teeth grinding together. "Never- _never_ speak to me again." Grabbing her bag, she stalked towards where she knew Madame would be.

She needed to use her floo.

Perry set a bowl of chili in front of her, the creases on her forehead showing her worry, but the woman didn't speak.

There was a certain way the two did these things.

They had it in their heads that they had to play 'good cop, bad cop' with her and although she knew they were both big softies, she also appreciated their trying to parent her.

Nicolas hummed softly. "So… what did Gio do this time?"

She poked at her chili. It was red and goopy and her appetite was nonexistent. "How do you know it was Gio? It could have been Tom. Or _anyone_ really."

"Anyone else, excluding Thomas, and you go to Gio. You only come to us when you cannot go to Gio, usually because he is the one who crossed the line. And if it was Thomas, you’d be sighing more." Nicolas smiled. "So which line was it?"

She didn't look up from the bowl of lumpy red goo. "He said I was sheltered. Sheltered because instead of a normal childhood I was beaten before being shoved into a fucking cupboard? Sheltered because I had to walk to my own death?! In what fucking way was I _sheltered_!" She slammed her fist on the table- before realizing she was shouting and drawing herself back into her chair, bringing her knees up to her chest. "I know that there are memories I have seen that will probably never come to pass this time around. I know that… but it's just hard-..."

Perenelle reached over to take her hand. "Haresa, look at me… being scared is not wrong. Everyone is scared of something or someone and I think your biggest fear is letting people see you for who you are. You wouldn’t tell _us_ things about your past life for nine years and you said you knew us from before."

Nicolas nodded along with his wife. "Gio is probably testing your boundaries and pushing to see what you will allow him, as they are your friends and yet unlike how you know more than a little about them, they know only what you allow them. And to be honest, mi vida, you hoard those secrets like a tiny green-eyed dragon." He set a hand on her shoulder. “Just… give them a little bit. Maybe not all of it, but… something.”

"Can't I just stay here for a week or two?"

Perenelle laughed and dragged her from the chair, shooing her towards the floo. "No. You got your dose of wisdom, now go figure out what to do on your own!"

Haresa hated it, but Nicolas was right. She was so used to holding her cards so very close to her chest that Giovanni- _the most brazen of the other four, after her-_ took her opening up just slightly to test just how far he could pry into her mind and dig out a response as if hoping to get her to reveal something.

Which had made her snap back with equal force.

It was weird, this ‘break’ that they were taking. 

Katya and Gio were off making out or whatever they were doing when they weren't by her side, Shilo had retreated into a book, and Tamar- well she was pretty sure Tamar felt even fewer emotions than she did, so he was comfortable with staying by her side during this.

But during this 'break' there was a strange power dynamic that seemed to come over the Beauxbatons group. It was as if the other students thought they could vie for the spots the other three had left as if they would be able to replace the others and become an 'Elite', as the five of them had never had a ‘break’ before. 

This in turn caused Haresa to draw back more into her shell- the cold exterior where the nickname 'Ice Queen' came from.

Because she didn't _want_ anyone else around her.

Because no one else would _fit._

Haresa worked alone in class for the next week, Tamar and Shilo partnering, and she was efficient. Cold. Reserved. 

She worked on her manuscript during meals, eating lightly as there was no one to force her to eat more and she ignored most conversation as no one would really understand her sense of humor. 

During her free time, she read and studied and absorbed as much about Ancient Runes as she could- always having a quill close by so she could write out notes to her mentor to mail off later, sometimes even writing on her own skin if there was no one to hand her a piece of parchment.

It was during Defence one day, having taken over a corner to shove a book in her face and ignore the way Giovanni seemed to _purposely be doing that wand movement wrong and his posture was horrible and she wanted to just punch him for not having the balls to just confront her instead of trying to goad her into talking to him-_ when a tall figure blocked her line of sight. 

"What are you reading? Something related to Defense, I hope?" 

Blinking up at Thomas Slytherin- _who in all the drama, she had kind of forgotten existed (she was a horrible person how could she forget Tom)-_ she smiled halfheartedly. "You got me there. It's on Ancient Runes."

The man hummed, moving to lean against an empty desk, wine red eyes studying her before doing the same to her book. "I hear you are going for your mastery and that you may have one or two already… At your age, some would call you a genius."

"I am rather fond of the term _advanced_." She smiled wryly. "Really it's just my memory. I can't seem to forget anything."

A flash of surprise and apprehension crossed his face, that to her, was more expressive than he probably thought. "Anything?" The man leaned in slightly, eyes curious. "And what is your first memory?"

"Ah. That would be telling though- wouldn't it?" She then tilted her head and thought on that, before she was born, the time in her future/past life. "But then again I suppose my first memory should be of my parents, shouldn't it?"

"Is it not?" Red eyes gleamed in a way so familiar to the little knowledge-hungry gremlin Tom had been.

She shrugged.

When the man realized she would not answer, he huffed slightly and tilted his head. "Curiosity killed the snake I suppose… but did you ever live in an orphanage?"

"Some days." She tilted her head and frowned. "At least, I think I did. That part of my mind is… hazy. It was not very pleasant, the orphanage, and smelled of canned ham." She knew that was not really what he was asking, but she couldn't help herself, as Tom had complained about that to her when she was young.

A victorious smile lit the man's face. "And the name?"

Blinking, she tilted her head. "St. Mary's." Some of the previous hope drained slowly from the man's eyes. "Though a few years before I got there they renamed it from Wool's Orphanage. Never took down the ugly iron gates though."

Beautiful garnet eyes fixed back on her. "I see…"

"Sorry, was there a real point to those questions?"

Thomas- _Tom, her Tom, she could see him in those eyes and just wanted so badly to hold him in her arms-_ Slytherin smiled politely, standing. "No, I just thought maybe I'd ask. As you said the other day, people never ask you."

Her smile was amused and fond- _so unbearably fond she could feel it leaking out of every pore in her body_ \- as she chuckled. "Always happy to humor you." She hid in her book again, a smile staying on her face, knowing that Tom was trying to dissect every last one of her words for any hidden meaning.

The standoff between her and Giovanni happened the next day in the courtyard during their outdoor portion of Defence class that she'd gotten a pass to sit out of from Madame as long as she was working on something related to Defense- because where _else_ would they do it?

Haresa had a paper in her lap where she was sitting on the warm sun-lit stone, red pen in hand as she corrected and made edits to the writing when polished shoes stopped in front of the desk that she'd moved to the corner. She didn't look up. "Giovanni."

"I don't know your birthday."

It was such a sudden and unexpected statement that she looked up, blinking in a way that made her feel like an owl. "...What?"

Giovanni looked as if he was seconds away from either punching something or crying. Which was strange because she’d never seen him cry. Not even once. "I don't know your birthday. No one knows your birth name. You don't talk about it but you wake up screaming at night sometimes. No one knows exactly why there are rules against touching you or why when you came to Beubaxtons you wouldn't even speak…" The boy's blue eyes looked at her for a moment and then looked away. "You are brilliant, kind, honest, funny, and yet- not even the closest of us know a single thing about you. Then you turn around and say things to random strangers! Like those little things that we have been trying to find out for years mean nothing!"

So many things had not mattered to Haresa for so long, but she'd been conditioned to keep anything she could to herself in case it cost someone she loved their life. 

This, however- as she forgot sometimes- was not war. 

There was no threat to her loved ones because _they didn't know her this time around._

She let out a short breath as if it had gotten punched from her chest.

"July. My birthday is in July. I- uh-... as a child, before I was sent to an orphanage, the muggle family that I had been living with… they were not kind to me, nor were the people at the orphanage themselves- Hence my aversion to being touched without my permission that’s so famed and feared."

_You better be happy. Twenty years of denial and five years of therapy led to that bittersweet revelation right there._

Giovanni looked off-balance as if he had not expected to get an answer from her. "Oh…” He rocked back on his heels, staring at her for a long moment before a slight smile broke his stunned look. “So what did Nick say?"

She frowned unhappily. "That I was a dumbass. Well- not those _exact_ words but it was clear enough to read between the lines."

"And did you find any new friends while Katya and I were off making out?"

_Of course, they were._

Snorting, she looked at him. "Oh. Yeah. Did I mention I met up with Claude in one of the abandoned classrooms?" At the boy's thunderous expression, she chuckled and stood up, stretching to crack her back. "Kidding. As much of a trip _that_ would be, he's a douche canoe.”

"How enlightening." The low drawl of Professor Slytherin drifted across the courtyard. "And this pertains to my class… how?"

"She was merely providing me with a hypothetical situation in which I would hunt down someone and skin them. Does that count?" The vampire growled, side-eyeing her, to which she just smiled innocently.

Shilo ambled over. "No, see- best way? Blind them up and then set a thousand shrunken flesh-eating worms on them."

Katya laughed brightly. "I'm always up for a good castration!"

"Poison him." Tamar drawled from where he was sitting and lazily levitating rocks only to fling them at a spider he'd found.

The group looked at her. She hummed and leaned against the desk. "So… _violent_. And what happened to the classics? I think a beheading would be appropriate, wouldn't you?" Her grin was teasing. "I'll even be the Queen of Hearts- red heart lipstick and everything." 

The group snickered, looking at each other before all four did a sweeping bowing at once. "Your Highness."

She made a face. "You've all been waiting for an opportunity to do that for years, haven't you?" She sighed and pinched the bridge of her nose. "I swear to all things magic that the next time any of you make another joke about me being royalty or something… well I'm not quite sure _what_ I'll do, but it’ll be appropriate."

The four grinned, straightening, and then life was back to normal. 

Shilo put away her book, sitting with Katya and whispering, Tamar was next to Gio, both muttering, and she was left staring into amused wine-red eyes. "Do you and your friends discuss public executions often?"

Haresa shrugged. "You should hear us during Potions class. The girl I'm tutoring- well she's just _adorable_."

"I'm sure." A slight smirk of the man's lips before it was smoothed away by a look of intense curiosity. "Did you say your birthday was… July?"

"Thirteenth." The lie slipped out without meaning or really trying. Just a trigger reflex and thinking about it, she was glad she did, because July 31st was a big No-No date for the Dark Lord. She smiled thinly. "It’s the thirteenth. Unlucky, I guess, but I like it..."

A hum, those piercing eyes scanning hers, and she got the impression that he knew she was lying.

_Oops? Oh well. Too late now._

"Please tie your hair up in my class Miss Flamel, especially if you tend to start spontaneous duels."

She looked to Shilo, who held out a hairband and she smiled at the girl as she pulled her hair back into a ponytail. "Sure thing, Professor."

A soft huff and then the clack of dress shoes on the tile signified the man's departure.

_She was glad for the goblin healers._

_Good thing the lightning bolt scar had been able to be magically moved- sitting right over her heart and buzzing slightly whenever the man was near- or that would have been just a bit embarrassing._


	5. The Lord of Snakes

The school's excitement seemed to amp up with the arrival of the Goblet of Fire and she quickly wrote her name on an elegant piece of paper that Madame had handed her earlier, standing from her seat. Raising it into the air with a grin, she was met by the cheering approval of all the French students. Moving forward, she dropped the paper into the fire and then turned and strolled back to her seat at the Slytherin table.

Tamar smirked. "Did I mention I bet on you?"

She looked at him quizzically, happy to munch on the food Katya kept putting on her plate.

"I bet my father that should you win, not only would he claim me as his son, but also name you as my sister in all but blood."

Haresa coughed- choking on the grape she'd swallowed, gasping when Shilo magically cleared her airway- but instead of acknowledging that she'd been choking, she just gaped at the boy. "You- wait- Your father _agreed_ to it? Why? He's not going to send assassins after me, is he?!"

Giovanni laughed. "I did the same- should you win, you would be royalty twice over."

Shilo nodded. "As with me too!"

"And you're already part of my family," Katya smirked.

"I-" She closed her eyes, trying to steady her shaken mind. People's faces flashed through her thoughts, people she'd considered family but who had been killed in the wake of the war. These- how- "I can't-" Her voice dropped to a hoarse whisper. "That's irrational- I mean, what if I lose? What if I die? What if _you_ die?"

A warm hand reached out to twine with hers, Katya squeezing gently. "None of us will die easily, Haresa, so do not worry about that just yet. Instead, focus on living your life. We will be at your side."

It was a long pause, but finally, she was able to pull her thoughts together.

Looking up to Tamar, she reached out to hold his hand as well. "I- Sorry I just got a bit overwhelmed... I guess this means I have to win, huh? If only to show up that bastard you call father…" When he chuckled, she tilted her head. "Is he coming? To watch?"

"No. As it turns out, the three of our parents are going through my Mother, trusting in her honesty." Shilo smiled. "So the Summer Queen comes to Hogwarts… with your parents."

Giving the group a horrified smile she muttered _'great'_ under her breath sarcastically along with _'I'm going to have to die before the first task just to avoid that'_. 

There were amused snorts and chuckles, more food put on her plate.

"I know."

Haresa looked up at where Katya was standing at the door to her bathroom, and with a raise of an eyebrow, she waved the girl in lazily. It wasn’t as if the four of her friends hadn’t seen her naked before. Sitting up slightly, the bubbles of the bathtub clinging to her, she tilted her head. "And what is it that you know?"

Katya took a seat down on the covered toilet heavily and looked as if what she said was going to hurt. "I know that you were born Harry Potter, not Haresa Flamel… Slytherin- the professor- he's not really a teacher. He's the Dark Lord and he has control over almost all of Britain. Dumbledore has almost no sway except in the school, hence the Dark Lord’s presence in trying to force the old man out. You work hard- hiding, training, making powerful allies… but please, don't go against Slytherin. He’s too powerful." The girl looked at her hands as if ashamed. "But… if you _do_ go against Slytherin, I will be by your side- as well as the others."

Looking at the girl wryly, she just wrinkled her nose at the thought of opposing Tom. "I appreciate the sentiment, but I don't think that's necessary. I don't plan on revealing my hand any time soon and once this tournament is done, I would like to go back to France as the politics there are usually much more... _civil_." Her nose scrunched up slightly at the thought of even having to deal with the Ministry.

"But- but everyone knows Haresa! The Dark Lord, most all of his followers, the-"

Raising her hand from the bubbles, she tilted her head. "Do they have proof to support this claim? Any of you? Or is this all baseless suspicion?"

Katya furrowed her eyebrows in worry. "Be reasonable Haresa- it is not hard to find such things out… Don't tell me you plan on just going on like everything's normal!"

"But it is." She smiled widely, even when the girl looked so very worried. "Madame has had the same foolish suspicion since she met me- do you think I would be on this trip had she found proof of what you are alluding to?”

“That was why she had us all take blood tests in your first year? But how did- how did you pass? You can’t change your blood!”

A lie. Blood was just as changeable as the rest of the human body- and it was a good skill to have, especially if you were the leader of a war against people who had blood identifying rituals and who knew what you looked like. But that was trivial in all this.

Haresa just grinned. “Then maybe I am not who you think I am after all.”

She stood from her bath, taking hold of the towel that flew to meet her and wrapping it around herself, leaving her friend to doubt all that she knew.

It was not really a surprise when she was called from the Goblet of Fire, made to stand in front of the Head Table rather than in the backroom, Madame Maxime at her side.

What _was_ a surprise was Romilda Vane being the Hogwarts champion, and even the Durmstrang champion- a tall lanky fellow by the name of Andri Volkov- gave her a similar look of shared suffering when the girl stood up upon hearing her name and shrieked like a banshee before making a whole dramatic scene with her friends begging Colin Creevy to take their photo.

Finally, the three of them were quiet and standing up in front of the hall while Dumbledore spoke about the challenges of the tournament.

Then- with a blue flame- a paper shot up into the air. 

Dumbledore caught it and furrowed his eyebrows. "Harry... _Harry Potter_? Who put this name in the Goblet of Fire?"

A single eyebrow rose on her face. It was not possible to have been soaked in some of her blood or somehow tied to her magic to bind it to her, so it must have been written by someone in hopes she would reveal herself. But it would not take her magic unless it was tied to her and by not being tied to her she didn’t have to claim it.

Plus, that wasn’t her name. 

No, she hadn't been a Potter for quite a while- her thumb going to where her Peverell Lordship was sitting on her pinky finger, a simple silver band that went unnoticed by most all. Turning slightly while making it look as if she was just looking around, she glanced at Tom who looked as if he was both anxious and yet anticipatory about what he probably thought would happen. 

He met her eyes, one of his eyebrows raising just slightly as if questioning why she was looking at him.

Haresa just smiled faintly and turned back to the front, looking up at Madame and shrugging as if she didn't understand what the drama was about as she ignored the side-glance Dumbledore gave her as if he was trying to convey something. 

"Should Harry Potter not come forth to claim her name… the magic of the Goblet will take her magic as punishment."

She snorted softly, gaining a curious glance from the Durmstrang boy, to which she rolled her eyes. 

_Her? Lose her magic? She highly doubted that._

"One last call?" The old headmaster glanced at her again, but she didn't move. 

It was soft, but a chant rose from the lower years of Slytherin. Quiet at first, but spreading like a wave of embers. "Off with her head. Off with her head. Off with HER HEAD! OFF WITH HER HEAD! **OFF WITH HER HEAD**!"

The roar of chanting grew, her friends sitting rigidly- upset and clearly ready to jump to her aid- but she just smiled and clapped along happily to the beat of the shouting, seeing Draco was one that was not shouting as he was instead looking at her as if she had a death wish.

With a sigh as if watching something tragic, the man tore up the piece of paper. "Unclaimed… Harry Potter will now lose her magic."

The hall was silent and she undid her hair, brushing her fingers through it and using a re-braiding charm effortlessly- aware half the hall was watching her with wide eyes. _This was better than some cheesy TV drama._ Looking to Dumbledore with a raised eyebrow, she crossed her arms. “Can we get on with our dinner, Headmaster?”

“Uh- yes- of course, Miss- Miss Flamel.” With another confused look at her, the man turned back to the hall and tried to smile, even if it came out a bit strained. “Now this is a tournament of international cooperation, so even as we are technically competing, I do not want to see any animosity between the schools!” 

The hall clapped, but it was lame and sort of stunned. 

Haresa turned to the Durmstrang student, meeting him in a handshake, and leaning in so she could whisper, “Watch out for Vane. She might be a greedy fame-seeking girl, but knows how to make a mean love potion.”

“Why tell me this?” The boy whispered back, his eyes confused.

“Because I’m here to make my parents worry a bit and then go home. My heart’s not in it to win, but I wouldn’t mind making a few allies while I’m here.” Madame put a hand on her shoulder and she winked, letting the boy go and stepping back. “Pleased to meet you, Mr. Volkov- and the best of luck in the competition.”

“As you Miss Flamel, and please, call me Andri.”

Her grin was bright. “Call me Haresa then.”

When she got back to the table, her friends moved closer to her, Katya and Shilo leaning across the table so they could get closer.

“How’d you do it?” Tamar’s eyebrows looked as if they wanted to fly away with how high they were going.

“Do what?” With a confused smile, she leaned down the table and looked at where Malfoy was sitting. The boy in question looked as if his whole world had shifted off its axis. As if the sun had just exploded. She chuckled, not even bothering to lower her voice. “Honestly, it’s like all of you saw some ghost or something- did I miss something? Did time freeze and all of you see someone die?”

Katya giggled slightly hysterically, shaking her head. “You really are something, Haresa…”

Finally, when the hall had somewhat calmed down, she tilted her head. “Oh, the whole ‘Harry Potter’ business reminded me- I used to have a friend at the orphanage who used to call me ‘Harry’...”

Giovanni choked on his food while half the hall sputtered madly.

“I dunno why though- Maybe my birth name was Harriet or something?” She just waved her hand. “Maybe I'm just being ridiculous though.”

The four looked at her in something akin to horror as if watching a train go off the tracks of a steep mountain cliff in person while the rest of the hall was silent for a long second.

Then Katya burst out laughing. “You? You look more like a Hera or a Harper than a ‘Harriet’.”

She chuckled along with the (slightly hysterical) girl, her smile wry and amused. “Yeah, you’re probably right.”

Life continued like normal- well at least hers did.

She ignored Snape’s jabs, tutored, did well in all her classes, pretended she couldn’t feel Tom watching her, and just kinda… kept on keeping on.

Normal.

Except that Andri and two of his friends- Yuri Sobul and Matvae Ivanov- had taken to sitting with her little group and hadn’t left since. Matvae was a brilliant potions students and often gravitated to her side to silently aid her in Potions class- becoming her new partner- Tamar and Yuri had gone together like greek fire and gasoline and hadn’t been apart since, and Andri was both funny and a dueler strong enough to keep Giovanni on his toes.

This, though, was the first time she’d publically dueled someone other than Giovanni in Britain.

Professor Slytherin- _Tom,_ _her dumb brain reminded her_ \- had paired them with a slight smirk, and then told the class that they were to study their methods closely.

Fun Fact: Haresa had a wand- but as it was the Elder Wand, she never used it except around her parents and occasionally her friends.

So when the boy pulled out his wand, she sunk back into a relaxed stance and raised both her hands limply.

Katya wolf-whistled and she heard the girl lean over to Giovanni “That’s jujitsu right?”

“Tai-chi, actually… she must be expecting either him to be holding back, or have some other trick up her sleeve because that’s a risky play if he starts with more aggressive spells.”

“Gio.” She glanced over. “Seven galleons I win without casting a single spell.”

He narrowed his eyes. “If you do it, no spells and just one style of combat- I’ll have father send over that one book in the library you were making eyes at last time you visited Italy.”

She grinned and nodded, standing and adjusting her position so she was standing straight with one foot taking most all her weight, a hand held out flat at mid-chest level.

“Oh. This’ll be fun.” Shilo whispered excitedly. “That’s her battle stance! Remember the fight with her Defense Master in the courtyard? The one where she broke the fountain?”

The four grinned and moved to lounge on a table off to the side, content to watch.

Andri tilted his head. “No wand?”

“I don’t need it for this.” She just smiled at the weird look he gave her.

Pronounced steps sounded across the classroom, slow and sure, and then Tom was standing in between them even if his eyes were only watching her. “I want a clean fight. No spells that would kill or harm _too much_. Other than that, no spell is barred.” Vibrant wine-red eyes gazed at her for another long second. “Are you really going to duel without a wand, Miss Flamel?”

Tamar snorted, voice hiding a hint of irritation when he spoke up. “She never uses her wand, Professor. All her magic is mastered wandless before she will even touch her wand.”

She tilted her head as if to say _‘what he said’_. “Problem, Professor?”

“...It seems that you are more of a surprise than anyone thought, Miss Flamel.” Then, as if he hadn’t been staring her down, he looked to Andri and nodded. “Spells ready.” The wards were raised, the man stepping just outside of them smoothly. “Duel.”

Haresa stayed perfectly still, grin widening when the boy used the space to prowl around her. When she didn’t move, he scoffed and cast a curse at her back.

Smoothly, she moved to the side, the spell flying through where she had been. 

“What-” The boy behind her growled and stared to cast, faster and faster, but she just moved around the stone floor as if she was dancing. Her friends started to humm, their voices mimicking a waltz and she grinned at them. The boy sent a flurry of spells, but as she knew she couldn’t move through them, she just caught the first one in her hand and sent it back at the others, causing a chain reaction like an explosion.

“Look at that! I told you she’d do it!” 

Shilo’s voice distracted her and she had to duck out of the way to dodge a cutting curse, smile fading. 

Now it was serious. 

Taking her hand and bracing the impact, she caught the spells he was sending and then twisted their magic in her hands before sending them to do what she willed. Catching a jinx and twisting it into a modified shattering spell, she threw it to the ground and the room’s silence was shattered with a startling ‘crack’ of noise. Using the surprise, she twisted a binding spell she'd caught and used it to create a blinding flash of light, before sliding forward so she could kick out his legs from under him. Catching his collar just before he hit the ground, she took his wrist with her other hand so he couldn't point his wand at her while he grabbed her arm as if afraid she'd let him go.

Slowly, she laid him down to the ground, sinking to her knees so she could pin his wrists to the floor. "Checkmate. Though I will admit your spells are strong- focused. I almost fumbled the first one, not bracing myself as much as I should have. I'm impressed."

“You are… unusual.” The boy grinned back at her, not seeming too upset. 

Haresa snorted. “I can neither confirm nor deny that.”

They smiled at each other, both blinking when someone cleared their throat from off to the side. Giovanni smirked down at her. “Should we find you a room?”

Noticing she was practically on top of the other boy, she drew back her hands, pushing herself up as Andri got a bit of pink to his cheeks. “Depends on the kind of room- will it have a piano? I think it would be fun to see if I could make someone mess up playing the piano by-”

“Miss Flamel.” Tom’s voice was dark. “Stay on topic, if you would.”

“I rather think my idea of poking someone while they tried to play the piano would be funny, but to each their own.” At Tamar’s raised eyebrow, she winked at him playfully. “What did you think I was going to say?”

His murmur was soft. “Obviously something sexual.”

Gasping softly, hand to her chest for dramatic effort, she held back her shark-like grin. “Next you’ll accuse me of scandalous acts with those ladies I helped to heal when they were laying in my bed! How dare you twist my words!” Her lips turned up just slightly. “I can do that just fine _without_ your help!”

“Ah, yes, the saint. All hail Saint Haresa, as if you weren’t the one to knock most of those girls off their brooms in the first place.” Shilo said, face in a straight deadpan.

Katya sighed softly. “Haresa’s has no filter yet she’s waiting for some soulmate or whatever, we get it, can you all stop being dramatic for once?”

The others snickered at that, though they all pretended to look innocent when Slytherin cleared his throat yet again.

  
  


Madame Maxime found her curled up in the library later around a book that night, face in a frown as she sat down on a small sofa that she made look like an armchair. “Haresa… I have news.”

Looking up from her book, she tilted her head. 

“The first task- it isn’t going to be easy.”

“I know that, Madame.” She shut her book and shifted so she was facing more towards the woman, picking at her nails and knowing that the woman wasn’t supposed to tell her about the tasks but wanted nothing more than to see her school win. “In my travels with Nick and Perry, I befriended a dragon trainer in Romania… So imagine my surprise when just this evening he practically bounced over to give me a hug before telling me he had to go see his younger brother.” Her eyes slowly lifted so she could smile at the stunned Headmistress, flashing her the cover of her book. A book on dragons that she’d used Fleur’s floo to get from Perry. “Thank you for your worry though… Do the other champions know?”

Getting over her surprise, the woman blinked and then shook her head. “Karkaroff seems… distracted, and I know Albus would never think of looking as if he had helped his champion cheat.”

“And if a champion was to die from, say the champion of the school hosting… would they draw another?”

Madame raised an eyebrow, but shook her head and answered the question. “The reserve champions were already chosen. I chose Giovanni, Karkaroff chose Matvae Ivanov, and Dumbledore has a boy by the name of,” the woman’s eyes caught hers, “Neville Longbottom.”

Haresa’s hand tightened around the arms of the chair she was sitting in, wanting so badly to smash something out of rage. 

_Of course_. 

Could he not use her, the old coot would wait for Romilda to eventually fail and then stick Neville with the title of ‘Golden Boy’, even when the boy had obviously never had her training sessions to get him out of his shell.

The large woman stood and put a hand on her shoulder, probably seeing the blatant betrayal and rage on her face. “You do not have to save everyone, Haresa…” 

She was left alone, mind spinning, and with the sound of the library doors closing she curled into a small ball and pressed her eyes against her knees so no tears would be visible- it was all she could do to not fall apart fully and she just really needed to feel _something_ right now.

Caught in her grief, she didn’t hear the library door open, nor the measured steps approach.

"Miss Flamel?" When she didn't move, the velvety voice spoke as if to reprimand her. “Miss Flamel, I would like to remind you that-”

"Yeah, I-..." Her voice was choked out and she swallowed even knowing it wouldn't help, her voice still wet with grief and desperation when she spoke again- not moving from her curled up ball. “Sorry, Professor… I- I know it’s after curfew but Ma- Madame said I could stay here a little longer.”

There was a pause.

“I somehow doubt that...” She sunk her nails into her legs, not in the mindset to deal with conflict. “But as I am not able to continue on my rounds without raising the wards to the library and you seem to be dealing with something, may I take a seat?”

Chuckling wetly- because of course Tom would twist the situation to fit his ever-lasting need for more information- she slowly uncurled one of her hands and waved at the seat as if to say _‘go right ahead’_ , before lifting her head so she could wipe at her face. Pretending she didn’t notice the intense eyes on her, she untied her hair so she could transfigure the band into a handkerchief, blowing her nose before vanishing it. “I apologize for making your rounds more difficult.”

"Perfectly alright." The book leaning on her leg flew to his waiting hands as he said that, hands brushing the spine as his eyes flicked across the title, looking up at her with a small frown. " _'_ _ _Dr_ agons… How To Deal With Ancient Creatures'_? Are you planning to come into contact with a dragon any time soon?”

“It’s the first task, apparently.” She smiled wobbly when Tom stared at her in visible shock. “Charlie Weasley, a friend who works on a dragon reserve in Romania- he showed up the other day and told me he was here for the tournament and that he had a little brother in my year… I am assuming you didn’t know this?”

Eyes flashing a vibrant crimson color, the hands tightened around the book and she watched in faint amusement as the man fought off his anger- _he had always been against the mistreatment of children, or well, he had been ever since she’d told him hints about her own home life and he’d declared his that his pride would not let magical children be mistreated._

When he spoke, it was clear he was irritated (probably at Lucius, for not telling him). “No… It seems I was not informed of the Ministry's plans.” Then with a pointed look, he held out the book. “And was that why you were upset? Because of the imminent thought of facing a dragon?”

Haresa stared at him for a second and then giggled.

Not on purpose, no it was more because that wasn’t a question she was expecting and the notion of it was _foolish nonsense_.

The startled giggles devolved into a full laugh that had the tightness in her chest easing. Taking a breath and reeling back her humor, she shook her head. “No. No, I'm not worried about the dragon. I'm worried that I will be tasked with playing interference between what I want and what Dumbledore is trying to manipulate to happen.”

“Oh?” 

Haresa stood, taking the book back and putting it into her bag. “It’s no matter. He has no real power anymore anyway.” Tying her hair back into a messy bun with a hair tie from her bag, she gave Tom a small smile, knowing she was playing a card from her hand sooner than expected- but she wasn’t too worried about the blowback. “Don’t get too upset at Mr. Malfoy, alright? Draco would be devastated if anything happened to the man he idolizes.”

As if she didn’t notice the widening of those ruby orbs, she turned for the door.

“You are a strange girl, Miss Flamel.”

She paused, a single hand on the door, her head spinning with so many memories that it was all she could do not to turn back and pull Tom- _her Tom_ \- into her arms. Her voice was musing, despite the way her hand gripped the doorknob tightly. “Strange, you say? ...I think I can work with strange.”

Then she made her way out as quickly as she could, hoping she didn’t look like she was running away- because that was _definitely_ what she was doing.

The next morning, her friends sat at Ravenclaw but she split from them, sliding into the seat Andri and Yuri had cleared when they saw her coming. “Haresa.”

“Andri. Yuri. Matvae. How are you gentlemen this morning?” She stole a piece of toast from Matvae’s plate, grinning when he glowered at her. 

Yuri chuckled. “We are good…” He studied her skeptically. “You are not with your ‘Elites’? I thought that they would not let you out of their sight?”

Haresa just shrugged. “Shilo has eyes in the back of her head when it comes to me.” When the three nodded in concession, she fished the book out of her bag and put it down in front of Andri. “Now… I want you to have the same fighting chance as I have in this tournament, so here. I would think chapter six or eighteen would fit your needs well.” 

Patting the boy on the back when the color drained from his face in realization, she stood and stalked across the room to the Gryffindor table.

When she stopped to stand next to Vane’s whole group of giggling harpies, the girl in question gave her a haughty look. “Something wrong? I don’t remember inviting you over here _Hareeca_.”

“Actually, I was going to offer you a book. To read.” She pulled out a copy of the book she’d given Andri- trusting the other boy much more with something so precious. She held it out across the table to the girl. “I thought as a fellow champion, that maybe you’d want to give it a look-through?”

With a slap to her hand, the book dropped onto a plate of sticky buns. “Oh, oops! Dear me, what a _pity…_ ” Romilda then stood up and leaned across the table until they were almost nose to nose. “I don’t want your help or your false friendships. I’m _going_ to win this tournament.”

Her hands curled into fists, seconds away from just punching the girl- when a hand rested on her shoulder, a comforting weight. “Is there something wrong, Haresa?” Tamar’s even but edged voice spoke up from next to her and Romilda froze.

As if trying to backtrack, the girl tried to smile in that sappy sweet way girls did when they saw a handsome guy and were horrible at flirting (or didn't know they were flirting, but that definitely _wasn’t_ the case here). “Oh, sorry about that, it must’ve fallen from her hands.”

“How dreadful.” Professor Slytherin’s monotone voice made her startle a bit, as he had just seemed to appear at her side. _She blamed herself for having gotten used to the sound of his measured footsteps against the stone_. “Is that the original book Miss Flamel? The one that your father gave you?”

Haresa saw Romilda pale and sighed slightly. _Maybe he was against the mistreatment of children, but Tom still delighted in making people scared, no matter their age._ “No. It’s just a copy.” Taking a deep breath, she canceled out the copy with a flick of her hand. 

Tamar rubbed soothing circles at her back.

“Well...” She glanced at Tamar as if to say _'at least I tried'_. “No harm, no fou-”

“So who are you going to the Yule Ball with?” Romilda leaned in, but her eyes were still on Tamar. “My mother’s on the school board, so I should know about these things-” The girl glanced at her, eyes darkening. “It’s one of my _many_ strengths and it will _surely_ help me beat _you_ in the tournament.”

Thomas snorted softly, but Haresa caught it and glanced at him, amused. Then she looked back at the girl, leaning in so her whisper caught the girl’s ears. “And I am sure that when facing a dragon that social niceties will be an _excellent_ weapon.” Then she stalked away, rolling her eyes at the girl’s sputtering.

Protecting that girl was going to be harder than she thought- as now she was sort of rooting for the dragon.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Have a chapter while I momentarily have a crumb of serotonin in my brain-muscle  
> These idiots give me life (˶◕‿◕˶✿)


	6. The Lady of Shadows

Haresa was in the middle of teaching Matvae how to twirl cutting knives- as she did out of habit while she was reading instructions- when the door opened.

A small boy with a familiar camera stood in the door, eyes wide. “Um- Professor Snape? I- I’m here to get Haresa Fla-Flamel? For the weighing of the wands?”

Snape turned to her with a sneer. “Miss Flamel, get out of my classroom.”

Rolling her eyes, she took back her knife from the boy next to her with a quiet ‘sorry’ and packed her stuff up. “With pleasure, sir.” Sending a short nod to her friends, she moved into the hallway where the smaller boy was staring at her. “Hello. What’s your name?”

“Colin. Colin Creevy.” The boy fumbled with the camera around his neck and she could feel her heart clench. “Can I- may I take your picture?”

With an amused smile, she paused in their walking and she turned to him. “How about this. You can be Beuxbeton’s official photographer. If you make sure to get good pictures of both the students at work, the tournaments, and also me competing, I’ll give you a galleon every two pictures and possibly set you up with a friend of mine who owns a newspaper.”

Wide-eyed, the boy nodded hastily. 

She smiled and ruffled his hair. “Cool. I’ll have you wearing a press badge by the tournament.” With a wink, she put five gallons in his hand. “Consider yourself hired.”

They finally made it to the room, the rest of the way filled with the boy ranting about how cool she was and his thoughts about photos he wanted to take. 

Stopping at the open door of the chamber with the other champions and headmasters, she smiled fondly and patted the boy’s head. “Come on. You’re here as my guest, so no slouching or trying to hide. You’re a professional now.” Walking in, Colin at her side, she smiled at Madame- noticing out of the corner of her eye that Lucius Malfoy and Thomas who were both watching her closely- and slid in next to Andri with a teasing smile. “Hey, An. I was just teaching Matvae to do that knife trick that he’s been bothering me about- so you better be careful.”

The boy grinned at her. “Oh? He broke your will of iron?”

A camera click.

“What is this boy doing here?” Malfoy stepped forward, eyes zeroing in on Creevy.

She stepped forward as Colin seemed to wilt, hand on the boy’s shoulder. “I have hired him, with Miss Delacour’s consent, to be Beubaxaton’s official photographer. He will be with me whenever possible, _including_ tournament related meetings and events… Is that a problem Minister Malfoy?”

Something akin to dark glee flashed across the man’s face before the man’s mask fell back in place. “Miss Delacour? Can you confirm this?”

Fleur knew this was an olive branch to her about the anger she’d felt at the girl, and her face was pleasantly neutral. “Haresa has been given my approval. Don’t you think it would be good for the world to see our champions and students interacting? Show the world that Britain is more than stable? There have been… worries lately, with the past war and all.”

 _Always able to sway the best of them, smooth-talker._

Haresa smiled sweetly at the man, tilting her head. “Oh. Right. I almost forgot… Aren’t you having a bit of political unrest currently, Minister?”

“Politics should not concern _you_ , Miss Flamel.” Lucius Malfoy had hated her since he found Draco visiting her in a muggle flower shop almost every day. “I will let the boy stay, but he will keep his mouth _shut_.”

She could feel Collin flinch and leaned down to whisper to him. “I believe in you, Collin. You’re an Elite now.”

Straightening his back, a fire in his eyes, the boy narrowed his eyes on Malfoy. “I will follow the orders of the person who _hired_ me. Sir.” 

Her laugh was bright and rang around the walls of the room, ruffling the boy’s hair. “I knew there was a lion in you somewhere, Colin. Now come, I believe that this corner over here is the best vantage point for a picture of us champions without getting too much of Mr. Ollivander in the shot!” She dipped her head to the old man in greeting, smiling to the Gryffindor boy conspiratorially. “He’s not that fond of his picture being taken.”

With the boy situated, she looked to Andri, who smirked and strolled over. “As I seem to be outnumbered… Gentlemen first then?”

“Or just sore losers first, but sure, we’ll go with gentlemen.” They shared similar mocking scowls and she elbowed him. “Go on then.”

Andri sat down, holding out his wand for the man. Ollivander looked at it, humming. “Definitely not one of mine… Aspen wood, dragon heartstring, 14 inches, moderately flexible- a sturdy wand for a loyal friend who always has a dueling spell or joke on his lips.” The man smiled approvingly at the boy and flicked the wand, which made it shoot out vivid purple sparks. “And very well maintained. Impressive.”

Romilda shouldered past her as soon as Andri stood, making her purse her lips, but she held her tongue.

Ollivander gave Haresa a knowing look, before smiling at the girl and taking her wand. “Spruce wood, unicorn hair, 11 inches, fairly rigid- a wand for one with a lot of self-confidence who will never bow to another, regardless of their intentions.” Before the girl could truly understand the backhanded insult in the man’s words, Ollivander waved the wand, causing a single red rose to appear. “Well used and in acceptable condition.”

Romilda opened her mouth, but Dumbledore gave her a chastising look. “Miss Vane, if you would let Miss Flamel sit down?”

Ignoring the glare sent her way she sat in the chair, smiling at the older man with the white hair. “Hello again, you old fool.”

The room’s immediate stunned silence was broken by the wide smile the man gave her, chuckling. “Haresa. I assume you will not show me your wand, even should I beg? Every time you come to see me and yet never have I actually held your wand.”

“Do you actually want that? To hold my wand?” Her voice was curious. “Because for all the people that I know, I might actually let you have it should you ask...”

With a snort, the old man held out his hands. “No, I don’t think I could ask that of you. But thank you for stopping my momentary curiosity from getting the best of me every time we cross paths.” When she put her hands on the table to match him, his hands moved to pick up hers, sending her a wry smile. “And yet, I must inspect something, mustn't I? Now let’s see here…” The man hummed and studied her right hand. “Half-blood, very strong skin, and yet a bit under-fed.”

“Rude.”

He gave her a dry look, continuing in his search, spreading her palm wide like one would a cat. “Prone to flirting with death, a warrior through and through, a history of low self-worth-” She snorted softly and he smiled faintly. “With more than a bit of a hero complex.”

“Tell me something Perenelle _doesn’t_ lecture me about every time I see her.” 

Ollivander smiled faintly and then moved to pick up her other hand. “Extremely adaptive to her environment, with a heart three sizes too big, and yet…” The man looked up at her with kind eyes even if his voice turned grave. “ _Tortured_.”

Pulling away, she felt her gaze cool, heart twisting as if trying to escape her chest. “Enough.”

“Why are your hands still covered in blood, my dear?” His eyes were unfailingly kind, something she didn’t deserve when he could see her more clearly than anyone else in the room. “Can you not forgive yourself for how you were made to survive?”

“I said enough, Garrick.” Her voice was rough. “You know- _gods-_ you _know_ you can’t say shit like that and not-”

A hand grabbed hers, his eyes seeming to draw her in as they burned with gold light. “Not what? Not expect you to fight? Not expect you to lash out? You threw me through three walls last time I dared to even mention blood- why are you hiding from it? Don’t you want to _scream_? Don’t you want to _kill them_?”

“ _NO_ _!_ ” Her magic exploded outward, the man thrown backward, hitting the wall hard. She was out of her chair, stumbling back too as if the distance would help. As if it would change anything.

She pressed herself to the wall, head tilted back as she tried to breathe.

The room was silent for a long moment, the old man grunting and standing, cracking his neck slightly. He took a step forward and then paused, seeming to think better of that. His voice was soft. “I’m sorry.”

“Just go.” Her voice was soft, a whisper as she gasped around her panic. “Just… go.” 

“I brought your Holly Wand. She thought… that it would help since you never want to use the other one.” There were footsteps and then a clatter as a wand was set down at the desk. “I hope… next time it’s better.”

Her huff was soft, her smile a grimace. “Goodbye, Garrik.”

A chuckle and the man dipped his head mockingly, voice sickly with the undertones of his patron again. “You always hate what I have to say, but that does not mean it is not true. You will eventually have to either wash yourself of the blood, or you will have to live it all over again.”

Her hands shook more, wanting so badly to summon the death stick and kill the man if just to make Fate stop talking through him, voice a snarl. “Leave my sight. _Now_.” 

“As you wish.” With a crooked smile, the man strode out of the room.

Feeling as if her magic was barely contained- about to lash out if she dared move, she clenched her jaw and looked down at her hands. Shutting her eyes when she could _see_ the blood dripping from her hands, she stiffened when a voice spoke up. 

“What was that all about, dear girl? You seem quite volatile and what was it that he spoke of- blood?” Dumbledore stepped closer but stopped short when her magic reared, filling the room with the sharp smell of electricity as if before a lightning storm.

Fleur moved closer slowly. “Haresa. Calm yourself and contain your magic once more. No one will hurt you here… And no one here will be hurt by you either.”

“...yeah. I-... is- is he right?” Eyes flickering to the girl, she slowly drew back her magic and put on one of her masks as she tried to smile. “Am I really underfed?” 

Fleur laughed softly, patting her shoulder. “I am sure Perenelle will notice and make you actually eat. No worries. Now come, we must get you away from delusional men who think it’s a good idea to send you into a panic in the middle of a crowded room.” The veela shook her head, muttering under her breath as she led Haresa out. “Stupid old wandmaker- always pushing his luck _._ ”

  
  


How _interesting_.

Tom watched as the room slowly unfroze and was cleared. The Durmstrang boy looked concerned and the small photographer was at his side with a similar frown- _he would watch out for those two, getting so close to his strange girl-_ the Vane girl he was already hoping died in the tournament exited while muttering about things that made him narrow his eyes, and the Headmasters slowly left as well.

Leaving just him and Lucius. His eyes slid to where the blond man was scowling. “That girl- thinking she’s so above anyone else! First, she corrupts Draco and now she acts like a weak child because of some-”

“She is probably twice as powerful as you.” His voice was cold, cutting. _She was not his to talk badly about, not with how beautiful she’d looked, eyes lit up with power as she glared at the old wandmaker._ “You felt her magic. That girl is _dripping_ with magical power.”

The Malfoy looked over, surface thoughts showing his shock. “You… I thought the tournament was planned to kill her?”

Hissing, Tom advanced on the man, waving his hand to ward the room. “Kill her? I told you to make sure she came and competed, not to harm her!” _That magic, he’d recognize that sweet electric magic anywhere and he wouldn’t be letting her go a second time. No, this time she’d stay right by his side where she had promised him she’d always be._ He loomed over the other man, eyes bleeding into a vibrant red. “Should that girl suffer a single scratch, I will be sorely upset… But as she has asked me to spare you because apparently, she is _brilliant_ enough to know exactly who I am-” _He’d figure out how she knew that, as she didn’t seem to recognize him as her Tom- as her dear sweet Tom…_ “I will take my anger out on your _son_.”

“Draco- you cant! He- he’s still a boy!”

His grin was sharp and vicious- even if he really had no plans to harm the youngest Malfoy, he wanted his wrath to motivate the sniveling man in front of him. “Oh? And that _boy_ is of _age_ to take my _mark_.”

“What- what can I do?” The man pleaded, softly.

It was only because the man was the son of his most loyal friend and currently his best political asset, that he stepped back and gave him a cold look. “Change it. Use your brain and maybe actually give people a proper tournament! This was never about killing teenagers, you fool, it was a test! A test to draw out that girl's potential and judge her side in the war!”

The other man was still shaking. “The- the first task… it won’t be able to be changed so late…”

“Fine.” His eyes held the promise of a slow death. “But you know the punishment for her being harmed.”

With a nod and a quiet, ‘Yes my Lord,’ the man hurried out.

He closed his eyes, taking a deep breath. The smell of lightning still hung in the air, heady in its power and calming in the way it seemed to creep into his chest and curl warmly around his heart.

_Soon._

_She would eventually have to give in to his games, give herself away, and the second she did he would make sure that she never left him- Remind her that his arms were where she truly belonged._

  
  


The morning of the first task, Haresa braided back her hair tightly and pulled on the deep blue robes that she’d had tailored in the typical fashion of Auror combat robes, the Beauxbaton crest on her back. Knowing the others were already in the hall, she made her way to breakfast.

Entering the hall, Collin immediately snapped a picture of her from where he was sitting next to Katya, and she smiled at him teasingly. But before she could move towards her friends, a hand spun her around and strong arms were encircling her. She tensed, magic welling up around her-

“My little sun is all grown up!”

Laughing as her panic disappeared in an instant, she relaxed into the hug, smiling at the man when he pulled back. “I didn’t expect you two so soon.”

“That’s the point of a surprise, my dear!” Nicolas laughed, slapping her shoulder and strolling off with his hands in his pockets.

She looked at Perenelle, who sighed. “We were called into this area for a conference and wanted to see you. Now should we go before Nick starts to harass Giovanni about you?” Seeing the look of horror that crossed her face, the woman grinned toothily. “Just be glad he has enough tact not to storm up to Albus and hex him. Or Thomas, for that matter.”

Haresa winced but followed the woman to where Nick was sitting. 

“-eating alright? She never eats enough. Oh, and what about her temper? No mishaps with putting anyone in the infirmary?”

“ _Papa_ _!_ ” She gave Nick a look of desperation, sitting down with Perry.

The alchemist just grinned, looking far younger than he should. “What? I am not supposed to be concerned about my daughter?”

When she groaned and put her head in her hands, Perry clicked her tongue softly. “Elbows off the table, Haresa. You are not eleven and pining over some stupid boy. You are a lady, and ladies do not slouch.” When she only muttered an insult, the woman flicked her ear. “Now Haresa. Or I will have words with your _friend-_ and I will _not_ be sparing any of my thoughts.”

Haresa sat up straight quickly, the others looking at her, but she just glared at the woman. “You _wouldn’t_.”

“Wouldn’t I?” The two of them stared at each other, eyes both narrowed, both having lived longer than anyone else in the hall (barring Nicolas).

“Perenelle! Nicolas! What a pleasure it is to have you in Hogwarts, my friends!” Albus Dumbledore’s loud, cheerful voice had her rolling her eyes, even if the woman next to her stood and exchanged cheek-kisses with the man. “What brings you to Hogwarts so early? I had reason to believe you would be here only for the second and third tasks?”

Nicolas laughed good-naturedly, even if she could tell both of them wanted to rip the man’s throat out. “We decided to come ahead of schedule! We will be only staying a few days for each task, but we are very excited to see what our daughter has up those sleeves of hers.”

“Nothing.” Her voice was monotone as she gave Shilo a flat look. “They are fitted.”

Her friends chuckled, Perenelle smothering a fond grin before turning to Dumbledore. “We just wanted to see Haresa, Albus. Maybe we can catch up with our daughter before the task?” 

A subtle way of telling the man to buzz off, but it seemed to have worked, the headmaster nodding and ambling off after a few more pleasantries. 

Nicolas watched her put food on her plate, frowning. “I knew Garrick was right! You’re not eating again!” He flailed his hands like he did when he was being an upset parent. “You need more than that Haresa! Or is this about _him_? Is it being here? I told you this was a bad idea!”

“Nicolas.” She gave him a flat look, to which he immediately stilled. “I am fine.” Her voice was a mutter. “It’s not like it matters anyway…”

Perenelle sighed, bumping shoulders with her in a way she only did when she thought Nick had messed up being the _‘soft parent’_. “Haresa… Will you eat some oatmeal for me? Or a piece of toast? We just worry about you, as your parents and all…”

Scowling, she sighed and nodded, a bowl of oatmeal appearing by her plate. “Playing the parent card.” Sending the woman a look, she scowled at the innocent smile she got in return. “A cheating cheater that cheats- that's what you are.”

The woman patted her hand lightly. “I see you are still as literate as always, my dear.”

Her friends chuckled, Katya grinning as she greeted Perenelle excitedly asking about their conference, and she pretended she wasn't pouting as she poked at the oatmeal.

The only things keeping her from having flashbacks and major deja vu vibes about the first task were that she was wearing blue robes and the faces in the tent were different. 

_Speaking of which… where was Rita Skeeter, the little bug?_

Not thinking too hard on it, she sighed as Malfoy held a bag and repeated the same spiel that Barty Crouch Sr. had last time. Zoning out slightly at the repetitive words, she looked around the tent- and frowned. 

Romilda Vane looked as if she was the cat that caught the canary, and upon seeing Haresa’s questioning gaze, just grinned and made a rude gesture.

“Miss Vane.” 

The girl startled, making Haresa share an amused glance with Andri. 

Lucius Malfoy held out the bag. “You first.”

With her nose up in the air, the girl pulled out a small dragon, the Swedish short-snout. Grinning at Haresa, the girl moved off to a mirror to check her hair.

Rolling her eyes, Haresa watched as Andri drew the Chinese fireball before Lucius turned to her- looking slightly pale- and held out the bag. “And you, Miss Flamel?”

“My pleasure.” Shooting the man a grin, she reached in and drew out the tiny Hungarian Horntail. It blinked up at her and then started dancing like a dog and she chuckled, raising it so she could bump noses with it. “Oh, how adorable!”

The tent stared at her as she just laughed at the little dragon, setting it on her shoulder and letting it climb onto her head so it could sit down like it was a small fire-breathing bird.

“Giovanni was right. You _are_ insane.” Andri remarked, eyes glittering with amusement.

Haresa laughed brightly. “And you listen to _him_? He was the one that- last time we dueled- tried to throw his sword at me like a spear because I said something about his relationship with Katya!”

Andri raised an eyebrow. “I heard he stabbed you through. That you spent two weeks in the medical wing recovering, and all because you wanted to get close enough to call him a ‘lackluster boyfriend that wasn’t even that well endowed.’”

Haresa grinned sharply, waving her hand. “Semantics.”

“You’re a piece of work Flamel.” The boy chuckled while shaking his head. 

At that, she snickered, eyes mirthful. “Again. _Semantics_.”

Lucius Malfoy cleared his throat, looking at her with fearful eyes, which made her frown slightly- _what was with the man? He should be laughing right along with Andri if just at the possibility that she might get mauled by a dragon-_ and the man kept his gaze fixed on her as he spoke to the tent. “There will be healers and dragon tamers standing by should anyone get hurt… but please remember to be careful.” Then with one last look at her, the man hurried out of the tent.

The headmasters sought out their champion, the other two talking softly, whereas Madame just leaned down to kiss her forehead. “You are not a martyr, Haresa. Do not be foolish.” 

She shook her head and moved to lay down on one of the cots, a smile on her face. 

_Her? Foolish? It was as if Madame Maxime had never met her before._

_Of_ ** _course_ ** _she was going to be foolish._

Romilda was first, apparently having concocted some fire-proof potion that Haresa was sure had something to do with Snape- _but she was still somewhat relieved when the girl sauntered back in with her egg, unscathed-_ and she was sure Andri would take her hint and challenge the dragon to a duel of honor using the ancient dances, therefore claiming the right to steal her egg when he proved he was a worthy opponent, but she wasn’t sure how unharmed he would be.

She was just putting up her hair when a familiar face entered the tent. 

Barty Crouch Jr. (this time in his actual skin) smirked at her. “Ready Flamel?”

“Of course, Mr. Crouch.” She grinned toothily at him as she passed him. “I’m always in the mood to fight a dragon.” 

His stunned laugh followed her out of the tent and down the stairs to the tunnel. 

Taking a deep breath, she held her head high and strolled calmly into the arena. Moving forward, the ground shook and the crowd screamed as the Hungarian Horntail landed directly in front of her, but she held up her hand before she could be burnt to a crisp. Eyes cold and voice carrying, she said a single word.

In parseltongue. 

**_:Stop.:_ **

The dragon froze, before tilting its head. **_:You are a speaker?:_ **

**_:I am much more than that, dragon mother. Use those instincts of yours- I know you can- and scent me.:_ **

Moving its head forward again, the crowd sucked in a breath as the dragon’s snout came inches from her. But after a long second, the great creature threw back its head in what sounded like a throaty laugh to her but could have well been a roar to the others. **_:You come at last, my Lady! How may I help you?:_ **

**_:Your eggs over there? There is one not like the others, a gold one that the dumb humans put in your nest. Can you get it for me? I am truly exhausted, as I have been staying up long nights to make a spell to get you, your sisters, and your eggs to safety:_** Haresa took the moment to drop her glamour, showing just how tired she looked, bags under her eyes and a slight slump to her shoulders.

The dragon bobbed its head and padded over to its nest, gently picking up the egg and then padding back to her, setting it down gently. **_:You need to take better care of yourself, my Lady. Your magic may keep you going, but it is no use if you constantly try to make yourself worse.:_** The snout poked her in the stomach, making her stumble back a bit with a laugh. **_:May I help you, as you are to help my kin?:_**

Her smile was tired and amused, waving her hand. **_:Do whatever you want, darling.:_ **

With the draw of air, the crowd screamed as she was engulfed in fire. 

“Haresa!” 

She spread her arms, soaking up the warm heat that seemed to be melting into her blood, making her feel as if she was made of molten honey. It stopped as soon as it happened, leaving her feeling refreshed and she gave the dragon a small smile. **_:Thank you kindly, Great One. Now, are you ready to go home?:_ **

The dragon sat on its haunches, eyes tired. **_:As ready as you are to stop fighting, Timeless One. Send me home.:_ **

Drawing out her Holly wand, she smiled and drew a glowing spell in the air before flicking her wand sharply. 

**_:Be free.:_ **

A golden light surrounded the dragon, and it disappeared, along with its eggs. Ignoring the mass chaos from the crowds, she picked up her golden egg and strolled past the tent, instead heading for the castle with a satisfied smirk on her face.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Haresa 'I'm-too-tired-for-this' Flamel and Thomas 'Yandere' Slytherin  
> (yes, those are their names, no, I'm not accepting criticism)


	7. The Lost Princess

**Notes for the Chapter:**

>  **WARNINGS** \- referenced/implied suicide attempt, referenced/implied child abuse/neglect

Haresa was sitting in the Great Hall, goblet of wine in her hands and golden egg on the table behind her when the doors slammed open. Giovanni led her friends at the front of the wave of people, his face a mix of received and angry. “You never told me you were a parselmouth! And what was that with the fire! Were you planning this the whole time? What if the dragon couldn’t understand you?”

Smiling widely, feeling light and floaty from the wine, she giggled. “I would have been burnt to a crisp.”

The goblet was knocked from her hands, a crowd of eyes watching as the boy loomed over her, his fist curled in the front of her robes as the wine stained the floor at their feet. “That’s not funny! You don’t get to joke about that Haresa!” His eyes were furious. “What would have happened if you died? Do you think that there wouldn’t be people upset? Do you have a death wish? Are you _suicidal_ , Haresa?”

“Not anymore, no.” Her voice was soft, back straight even as she looked away from him. “I tried to kill myself once when I was five or six, but the Matron at the Orphanage just sat me down and told me that if I was going to get blood on the floors that I would have to clean it up… so I haven’t tried since.”

His hand uncurled, shock and guilt lining his features.

Perenelle gently moved to Giovanni's side, taking her chin in hand so the woman could study her face, turning it so she could look her over before taking her wrist to check her pulse. “Are you hurt?”

Haresa shook her head. “I'm a bit tired, but no, I’m not hurt.”

“That was a dangerous stunt.” The woman's frown was concerned more than anything, but it still made her shift her weight in discomfort

“It wasn’t. Not really.” Her sigh was soft, eyes fixing on the collar of the women's robes. “I knew that she would be able to understand me and even if she hadn’t wanted to listen then I could have outflown her after summoning my broom.”

Nicolas moved to put a hand on his wife's shoulder, looking at her levelly. “Still. You’re getting a medi-wizard to look over you.” The man then looked back and fixed his eyes on someone, crooking his finger. “Lord Slytherin.”

Thomas swept over in an instant, sweeping her over with scrutinizing eyes before looking at Nicolas. “Miss Flamel. Mr. Flamel. It’s a pleasure. What is it I can do for you?”

“You’re going to keep an eye on Haresa,” Nicolas said this as if he wasn’t shifting the whole political ballgame by showing this support to Thomas instead of Albus. “Perenelle and I will not be here except for the tasks, so I’m asking for you to take on responsibility for her during that time. Thomas Slytherin, will you accept the-”

“Nick!” Her hiss was soft, cutting the man off with wide eyes. “What the _hell_ are you doing?”

Sending her a dry look, the man’s lips curved up. “Exactly what I said I would do if you tried to risk your own life again.” With a flick of his wand to silence her, her father turned back to Thomas, who looked more than a bit intrigued. “Thomas Slytherin, as the current Regent for the Lady of the Most Royal and Ancient House of Peverell-”

Haresa tried to yell- to step in and shut Nicolas up- but Giovanni wrapped his arms around his waist, lifting her off the ground as she wiggled like a very angry worm, magic crackling around her to no effect.

“-will you accept the responsibilities of Lord Steward and Lord Chamberlain until Haresa comes of age?”

“Nicolas, dear friend, surely this is a mistake?” Dumbledore sounded shaken to his core.

Thomas’ eyes were bright with delight. “Oh, but I think the question was posed to me, Albus, not you.” With a look at where she was glaring at them, her words of vitriol and outrage silenced, he just smiled simply. “I accept the responsibilities as Lord Steward and Lord Chamberlain for the Lady of the Most Royal and Ancient House of Peverell.”

Having already lost the fight, she just sort of slumped, head hanging down. The spell silencing her was released and she glared at the floor weakly. “I _hate_ you.”

“You hate that you didn’t remember the deal we made, not me.” Nicolas’s voice was soft.

Giovanni released her finally and she snarled at him, slapping away his hand when he tried to straighten her robes, knowing she was acting like a wounded animal but hating that her secrets had been stolen from her. 

A hand brushed over her cheek, Perenelle smiling at her softly when she looked up with narrowed eyes. “You know that this is for the best, dear. You’re much too fond of making yourself absolutely miserable and I’m sure Thomas will be a good influence on you to stop such self-destructive behavior.”

“Certainly.” She could feel his presence move to her side even if she didn’t look over. “I will do what is best for Haresa.” She could feel the words _‘whether or not she approves’_ lingering in the air, shivering slightly.

Perenelle smiled, but it was all teeth. “Then visiting a medi-witch would be a good start.”

Haresa immediately shook her head. “I’m fine! Plus I can heal myself, there’s no use in-” She startled as she was promptly swept off her feet into strong arms. “What do you think you’re _doing_?!”

“What’s best for you.” Thomas’s lips were set in a self-satisfied smirk as he started to stalk through the crowd that parted for him. “I thought that was obvious- or has your apparent lack of a sleep schedule dulled some of that quick wit you usually employ?”

Hissing at him, she grabbed onto his shoulder as he jostled her slightly stepping over the trick stair. “Let me down!”

“Mmmmm… No.” His grin was bright with mirth. “I’ve decided that this is the best form of getting you to the infirmary at the moment.”

Huffing, she closed her eyes in frustration to stop herself from hitting him.

It wasn’t long before she was being set down gently on a medical bed and she eyed the man as he pulled back slightly but didn’t move from her side. "I think that Lucius was about to have a heart attack over that stunt you pulled… as much they do have rules in place for the death of a champion, they are hoping not to use them."

"You mean _you_ are hoping not to use them." Her voice was still slightly frustrated, as that scene in the Great Hall made it so she had to change her plans- and she crossed her legs on the bed so she could worry at the hem of her robes.

“Care to explain?” He said as if he didn’t already know exactly what she was saying.

Haresa sighed slightly. “You’re Britain's famous Dark Lord- Voldemort... I’ve known for a while.”

A gentle finger brushed her hair behind her ear, his voice pleasantly curious even if it had an edge of something _dark_ to it. "And how did you figure that out, Miss Flamel?"

She gave a small shrug, glancing up at him for a moment. "Well, the red eyes are a start, no matter how dark they are. Then combined with the fact in the first war you used to call yourself 'The Heir of Slytherin' and the fact Draco tenses every time he sees you… I’d have to be stupid to miss the obvious. Plus even without those observations, Dumbledore alerted my parents when you started to come back into power for their safety and they’ve been tracking your moments ever since."

He just studied her for a long moment. "Do you really not know who you are? I somehow find that hard to believe when you fought so hard to get Nicolas to not reveal your title."

"You mean my birth name?" She wrinkled her nose. " _Harry Potter…_ I'm really quite indifferent to it. I think once upon a time I didn't mind the name, but now? Now I much prefer Haresa Flamel."

There was no surprise on the man's face, only understanding. "And the Goblet of Fire?"

Haresa just held up her right hand, wiggling her fingers where a silver band sat. "As everyone now knows, I’m Lady Peverell. I took that name as my magical one and left the others behind."

Long thin fingers reached out and took her hand, the man intently studying the band. "It’s… simpler than I thought it would be." He moved her hand so he could look on the inside of the band, red-tinted eyes catching on the symbol of the Deathly Hallows engraved in the band. "How fascinating.”

"Think Barty would want to study it?” Her voice was tired, still exhausted from earlier as she leaned back against the wall. “I hear he's a big fan of history."

"And how is it you know so much of my organization?"

Haresa snickered at that quietly. "You mean your _minions_? Maybe I'm just magic like that." Her hand was still caught in his fingers, holding it tightly when she tried to pull away, and her smirk dimmed slightly. "If you trust anything I say, trust that I hate Dumbledore probably just as much as you do and that I ran away from Britain not because I fear _you_ , but because I don't feel like being his little 'light pawn'."

At that, his hand loosened slightly, allowing her to pull away.

Her eyes scanned the empty wing, feeling a bit stuck under Tom’s eyes. “So. Medi-witch?”

“Whatever your name was in the past, you’re still my charge and I intend to take my job quite seriously. I will have Hogwarts attach a room to my quarters so that I can make sure you sleep at regular times, the house-elves are going to be starting a meal plan for you, you will inform me of any sort of extra-curricular activities you have planned, I will be responsible for any sort of behavioral correction, and I am going to be responsible for making sure that you are in good health.” He grinned toothily. “I am quite adept at healing, after all.”

“What-” She tried to process all of this, her brain still stuck on the fact that someone was able to have so much power over her- even if it _was_ Tom. “But you’re not a registered Medi-witch!”

He shrugged- _and it was just unfair how graceful his movements were-_ his grin widening further, if possible. “I’ve decided that it’s in your best interest.”

Haresa made a noise of outrage. “You can’t just decide things like that!”

Thomas arched an eyebrow, his wand settling into his hand. “I think you’ll find that I can.” Flicking the wand at her, he studied a piece of parchment that appeared, voice a murmur. “You’re _mine_.”

Suspecting that she wasn’t supposed to hear that part, she was glad he wasn’t looking at her as he surely would have caught the way she suppressed a shiver. Shifting her weight, she slipped off the bed to stand beside him, reading the results of the scan- a comprehensive scan, _because of course he did._

Her eyes glanced over the sickness she’d gotten from being outside as a baby in November, the abuse and mistreatment from her childhood, but she paused when she saw the line for right before she’d left the orphanage.

_Age: 6_

_Deep lacerations down forearms, high blood loss,_ **_eventual death._ **

Thomas looked up, stiffening and looking around, pausing when he saw her. There was something in his eyes as he raised his eyebrows. “Your story in the Great Hall left out the part where you apparently _died_. Of blood loss, no less.”

“I didn’t expect it to show up.” She reached over and took the parchment from his fingers, frowning at it as she leaned into his side slightly. Humming, she shrugged and handed it back. “Well. Don’t get used to it, but I concede on this one instance- it _would_ probably be best to keep that out of the hands of a Medi-witch.”

“You _died_.”

Rolling her eyes, she moved back to the bed, sitting down on the edge so she could bounce her leg to let out some of the pent-up nervous energy inside her. “Only for a little bit. It doesn’t exactly stick for me- instead I just kind of wake up not long after with a splitting headache. Worse than a hangover, dying.”

Thomas took a while to process this.

She eventually just laid down, yawning softly.

“It will not happen again.” His voice was soft when he finally spoke up again. “There’s no proof you will continue to keep coming back from the dead and you will not tempt fate with such nonsense... Alright, Haresa?” 

Haresa hummed. “Sure.” Her eyes closed, voice a bare murmur. “If you’re calling me by my name, what do I call you?”

“Tom, preferably. Thomas will work just as well if you wish to use it though... and I suppose during my class and in social settings, you should stick to formalities.”

“Tom?”

Exhaling softly, his voice was fond. “Yes?”

She curled to her side slightly and sighed, teetering on the verge of sleep. “Don’ tell me what to do.” And then with his amused chuckling echoing in the background of her head, she let herself fall asleep.

“Haresa.” A hand touched her shoulder lightly, warm and steady. “Haresa, your friends look as if they’re going to resort to hexes should you not wake up soon.”

With a muffled groan, she pushed herself up and blinked sleepily at Tom before looking over to the others. “Mmm. Morning?”

“Evening,” Giovanni smirked, though he was glancing between her and Thomas, who- she then realized- had a hand on her back as if steadying her. “We came to get you for the after-task party. I hear that the Durmstrang boys are coming, though I’m not sure about Hogwarts.”

Katya’s eyes were sharp. “Are you alright? It was quite the surprise- your Ladyship…”

_Ah. That was why they were glaring at Tom._

“It’s against the code of both Lord Steward _and_ Lord Chamberlain for me to hurt or put my charge in the way of harm knowingly.” Tom’s voice was bored. “And Haresa is in no state to be going to any such party- she needs sleep.”

“Then we’ll take her back to her rooms.” Tamar stepped forward. 

The hand on her back tensed, even as Tom laughed humorlessly. “Oh, no. I can do that myself, as I’m not about to let four unknown students traipse through my quarters as they please.”

Her friends stiffened.

Shilo’s eyes were dark, hands clenching. “ _Your_ quarters?”

“Haresa will be staying in her own room attached to my quarters,” the man’s tone was steady as if he didn’t notice that Shilo and Tamar relaxed, “so that I can make sure she actually sleeps. Are there any _objections_ to that?”

Sharing looks, Gio still looked a bit agitated even as the other four had relaxed. “She will be allowed her own space, but tell me: are you going to _respect_ that space?”

“If Tom doesn’t respect my space or something unsatisfactory happens,” her voice was thick with sleep and mild irritation of being talked about as if she wasn’t even here, “then I will use my own override to strip him of his titles before moving back to my old rooms.”

The group looked at her. 

Thomas tilted his head. “Why didn’t you do that earlier?”

“I could have opposed it when Nick was confirming you, but since you’re confirmed and my parents are still the regents, I can’t just kick you out because I don’t like that they went behind my back- I have to have a good reason that you aren’t suitable for your titles.” Her nose scrunched up. “And as much as I don’t like some of your so-called ‘rules’, you haven’t crossed any lines just yet.”

His smile was smug. “Then I will strive to not make you use that card you have up your sleeve, though it is a nice little trap to know about.”

Haresa sighed. _Such a Slytherin._ “I want to go to the party.”

“No.”

“I told Andri I would be there and I want to see how he did on his task anyway.” 

The man arched an eyebrow at her. “Trying to sway me with talk of your romantic dalliances won’t work. You’re not going- you’re magically exhausted from the task and you need rest, preferably under supervision.”

She pursed her lips, trying not to laugh, but failed at the grin on Shilo’s face. Wheezing, she bent forward so her forehead was against the hospital bed, snickering softly. 

“And why is that so funny?”

Pushing herself back up, she smirked. “I’m not- I don’t like Andri like that.” Then rubbing her eyes as she chuckled softly, she shook her head. “How about we make a deal- you come with me to the party and I get to stay for two hours.”

“Thirty minutes.”

“An hour and a half.”

Thomas crossed his arms. “An hour and fifteen minutes final offer. Of course, you can also ask to leave early, and if you fall asleep that also counts as the end of the time.” 

Her huff was soft, holding out her hand. “You’re either far more devoted to your job than I thought or you have a tendency to get overprotective and somehow I already qualified as someone under your protection.”

He took her hand to help her to stand up, pulling on the hem of her coat and tucking her shirt in even as he looked at her intently. “Is there a question in that statement?”

“Nope.” She smirked and then turned, putting her hair up as she walked towards the doors of the infirmary. “I already know it’s both.”

Sliding through the doors, she started to run, laughing in delight when he called her name after her in obvious irritation.

_He never said she had to stay next to him or in his sight._

Back at the carriage, the students had set up a huge bonfire and were all dancing around it, the older students getting drunk while the small group of younger students laughed and threw things at the drunkest of the older students. 

Claude was the first to spot her. “OUR CHAMPION! HARESA!” And raising his bottle of wine, the group cheered so loud she swore the ground shook.

“May we join you?” The students paused, looking at the Durmstrang students, led by Andri. The boy stepped to the side, showing off a wooden keg that two older boys were holding on their shoulders. 

The crowd whooped and then there was chaos.

Haresa just laughed and went to sit with the younger students, knowing each one, as she either tutored them or had helped them out as Head Girl. “Idiots.” The group giggled, and she smiled, sitting back and relaxing while watching the group of French and Bulgarian students party.

Tamar was the first to show up with a small smile. “Your new Steward is quite upset.”

“I still have,” she checked the time, “an hour left. He’s just upset he didn’t think of ordering me to stay in his sight.” 

“Of course, he should have known better than to allow you to use any loopholes, as you’re surprisingly smarter than you look.” Gio seemed to melt out of the night, Katya flushed as the boy set her down.

She made a sound of offense. “I'm wounded!”

“Hopefully not wounded enough to dance?” Andri ambled over, holding out his hand with a small hopeful smile. “I heard you spoke to the dragon- scared the life out of everyone. A sight to behold, the Beauxbatons champion still glowing with the embers of fire surrounding her, unharmed.”

Smiling brightly, she took his hand and let him help her up. “Sweet talker.”

Andri grinned back, eyes crinkling. “Guilty.”

They moved into the crowd that was dancing enthusiastically, one of the girls having gotten out a music tablet and the sound of the pumping bass filled the air as they passed the barrier of the silencing charm, making her smile.

Haresa had been out a few times when she was still an Auror to clubs and the like with her other female colleagues, always liking the invigorating feeling of dancing- of the thumping music in her bones like the steady push and pull of the tide. So she grabbed Andri’s hands and swung him around with her, laughing as he stumbled a bit before going with it.

She was breathless, the night cool around her and the air sweet even if she didn’t want to really think past the bass in her bones and the movement of her body.

Magic rising into the air, witchlights floated above the crowd and pulsing with color.

There was no pause- whoever was on the music tablet was good at what they were doing- and she lost herself a bit in the music, everything giving to the thrum of the music.

“Hello there...” An unfamiliar voice brushed against her ear, a hand coming up to place itself on her hip as a boy tried to drag her in. “You look a little lost.”

Before she could even move, a hand grabbed hers spinning her out of the boy’s hands and she smiled in delight when she was met with blood-red eyes, bracing herself against the smooth fabric of his modern suit-like robes. Tilting her head up, she smiled at Tom sweetly. “Funny seeing you here.”

“Time’s up.”

“We’ll see.” She ducked into the crowd, laughing and dancing away, bounding over to where her friends were sitting. Sitting down on Tamar’s lap, she grinned. “I’m about to be dragged away for the night. Everything good here?”

Katya nodded, a small smile on her face. “I can manage.”

Haresa looked at her with amusement pulling her lips into a grin. “Just tell anyone who’s causing a scene that they’ll have to explain to Slytherin why I have to get up when I’m still recovering from the first task.”

A tall figure stopped before them, eyes narrowed and arms crossed. “We had a deal.”

Standing, she gave Tom a fond smile, her blood still singing with exhilaration. “I had to give my knights their instruction, as I’m sure you understand. We can go now though if we must.”

“We must.” Moving forward, she was once again lifted into his arms. At her quizzical smile, he just gave her a dark look. “You’re a flight risk.”

Just sort of accepting this, she tilted her head back and looked up at the stars as her fingers tapped out the beat of the fading music against his sleeve. “You never said I had to stay within your sight.”

“I will keep that in mind next time I make a deal with you.” 

“Good.” Her smile was amused. “I look forward to it.”

His arms tightened slightly. “Do you think this is a game, Haresa? I am trying to keep you safe and out of danger. What do you think would have happened with that boy earlier if I wasn’t there? You were obviously not in the right state of mind.”

Haresa sighed. “I would have danced with him. You know it’s not unusual to be touching your dancing partner, not to mention I am adept enough in dueling to take care of myself. Plus... he was probably just drunk.”

“That doesn’t make it alright.”

Resisting the urge to roll her eyes, she just sighed and closed them instead. “I _also_ knew that you and the others were watching my back. Believe it or not, I do trust you, whether or not I agree with Nicolas handing my autonomy over to you on a silver platter.” Head tilting to the side, she laid it down against his arm, yawning slightly. “I have... bad experiences... with people having too much power over me.”

Shifting her slightly so her head was laying on his shoulder, his voice was soft. “I wouldn’t hurt you, even if I could.” 

It got harder to stay awake every second that passed.

The whisper was almost unheard, said right as she was falling asleep.

“And you have more power over me than you think, darling strange girl.”

There was a hand brushing back her hair, arms shifting her gently.

Not really waking, but rising out of the deep sleep, she sniffled and turned her head into the warmth as she appreciated the contact.

“I’m just moving a few things in my office… Shhh, you’re still drained. Sleep.”

As if obeying the words, she felt herself drift further down into sleep when she was set down, turning over to curl into the side of a sofa, falling back asleep as a blanket settled over her.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Haresa: If I kill myself, will Madame Maxine give me an extra week off?  
> Nicolas:  
> Perrenelle:  
> Haresa: Come on, guys, it's _snowing_ out- you can't make me go back to school  
> Nicolas: If you dare put yourself in explicit harm, I will tie you up and ship you to Britian with a bow and a note for your Thomas that just says 'She's your responsibility now'  
> Haresa, snickering and thinking it's a joke: **Bet**  
>  ~  
> I have no excuse for any of this ^-^ I'm just basically writing crack at this point shhhh


	8. The Sly Steward

_Blood coating the floor-_

_Her soft gasps unheard as she tugged weakly against the restraints-_

_“Please- please, don’t do this-... Please…”_

_The voice never changed, a hoarse whisper, but she'd lost control over the pleading as if it was detached from her. As if her body was being controlled by something else. As if she was lingering outside her own skin._

_“Please, help me. Please… Please, don’t leave me here… Please…”_

_Her throat was so dry-_

_Starving, bleeding out slowly, feeling the bonds around her wrists cutting into her skin-_

_She just whimpered, trying to curl in on herself._

_It hurt..._

“Haresa?”

_She could smell the blood coating the floor..._

“Haresa- you’re dreaming.” 

A hand touched her bicep and she jolted awake, eyes flying open as she pressed herself to the surface she was on, Elder Wand in her hand pressed to Thomas’ throat. Her breathing was ragged, staring at him. Her eyes darted around the room, taking in the minimalist office, the couch she was sitting on.

Drawing in a ragged breath, she dropped her arm, wand vanishing as she curled into a ball. “Dreaming... Right.” Her voice sounded weird to her own ears, eyes squeezing shut. “ _Fuck_.”

“Language.” Chiding gently, she felt the sofa dip next to where she was curled up.

Haresa uncurled just enough so she could shuffle over, shifting herself around so she could cling to him and tuck her face into his neck, sure that later she’d curse her weakness at not even being prompted to do such.

Staying still for a moment, he chuckled and then moved her around so she was practically sitting on him. “I’ll take note of the fact you’re extremely tactile, just incredibly stubborn.”

She just pinched him sharply in reprimand, snorting softly when he hissed.

“Don’t do that.” His voice was sharp, warning, and his hands flexed where they were resting on her back lightly as if reluctant to touch her even if he’d been manhandling her ever since he’d gotten those titles.

Lips quirked up, she felt a finger flick her ear, startling slightly.

“If you’re feeling better, then you don’t need a hug, do you?” He sounded stern, but she could feel his smugness when she tightened her arms, not willing to let go. “That’s what I thought.”

She huffed softly but couldn’t find it in herself to speak just yet.

Eventually, as the dull terror and grief from the dream faded to the background, she pulled away, sequestering herself away on the other side of the sofa again. “Sorry.” She fiddled with the silver ring on her pinky. “I should have asked if that was okay before I attached myself to you.”

“It’s alright, I don’t mind.” When she frowned slightly at him, he smiled in amusement. “If I had an aversion to you clinging, I would have voiced my displeasure, as I have no issue doing as such. You are welcome to hugs, as I have been led to believe that they are a good way to boost one’s mood.”

A soft laugh slipped from her lips- she had told him that when they were both young as a way to stop him from grouching about her ‘clinging to him.’

Thomas sent her a crooked smile of his own before standing up to stride back to his desk. “I’ve excused you from your classes for the day and I only had morning lectures. Your room is through that door.” He pointed at a door that was painted a deep royal purple color. “It has its own bathroom and all your belongings were brought up by Miss Delacour’s house-elves.”

“Thank you, Lord Chamberlain.” Her lips curved up as she unfolded herself and stood, still in her robes from the tournament. 

“Haresa.” When she paused at the door and looked back, he was at the desk looking at a piece of parchment. “If you take too long I will assume you slipped in the shower and come to check on you.”

Her eyebrow arched for just a moment. “That might be hard to abide by, what’s my time limit?” 

His eyes looked up at her and narrowed slightly. “Twenty minutes.”

Nodding, she slid through the door and then cast the strongest wards and locks on the door that she knew, flicking up a timer.

Showered and dressed, she was laying on her stomach across the bed reading when the timer went off. Barely glancing up, she looked at the door- still intact- and then went back to her reading, the timer starting to count back up.

Ten minutes or so later, the wards cracked and the door slammed open.

Haresa raised her eyes to stare at where glowing red eyes had zeroed in on her. “You’re late. What if I had actually slipped?”

“Merlin, you’re such a fucking _brat_.” His voice was a snarl, ignoring her chiding remark of ‘language’ as he tore away her book, an arm wrapping around her waist and she felt the feather-light charm be placed on her as he carried her out of the room like a limp blanket. Tossing her down on the sofa, he bared his teeth and threw her book on the sofa next to her. “You will read out here. Within _eyesight_.”

She just watched him calmly as he moved to sit down at his desk, fidgeting with his papers and just looking highly disturbed, tilting her head. “You were worried.”

Red eyes glared at her poisonously.

Shifting into a more comfortable position, she opened her book again. “I thought for a moment you were exceptionally bad at flirting or something and were using the intrusion of my privacy to do so... I’ll just use a simple locking charm next time if it actually worries you that much. I didn’t mean to distress you.”

“Why in Morgana’s name would I use that to _flirt_?” His voice was incredulous.

“When you said ‘If you take too long I will assume you slipped in the shower and come to check on you’... it sounded like you would use the excuse of your power to barge in, no matter if you had just cause or not.” She glanced over to see he’d put his head in his hands. 

Thomas mussed up his hair slightly in what seemed to be frustration before looking at her flatly. “Are you going to test everything I say just to see what I will do?”

Haresa shrugged. “Force of habit.”

“Yes, you were probably trained well to be very careful about reading the unwritten rules of the land at the orphanage.” His voice was dry, leaning back in his chair. “I am not going to use this power given to me against you unless it’s for your benefit. Trust me, I have no intention of breaking your trust and give you the opportunity to use that override to slip away. Is that clear?”

_It was questionable before, but now she understood- he wasn’t going to let her go and if that meant being the perfect gentleman in order to ensure she was stuck with him, then he’d do it._

_He’d always used every advantage he had before now and this wasn't any different._

Nodding, she looked back to her book.

_That just made it harder for her, as he was probably just as determined to keep her with him as she was to get away from Britain after this year because of all the people that had hurt her._

Putting aside their respective projects when the elves brought them food as a sort of ‘brunch’, she curled up in the chair across from him, a small table set up between them. “Directing your vast network of minions to do your bidding?”

“Helping Lucius write laws, grading papers, and making sure certain _investments_ are in order, actually.” He looked at her in faint amusement, as the tenseness between them had faded during the time quietly sharing the space (even if he'd kept looking up at her as if he was afraid she would disappear if he looked away too long). “I’m not some evil villain anymore- I thought that you knew this with your parents tracking my movements.”

Haresa gave a half-shrug. “I have a bad history with Dark Lords.”

Thomas hummed. “It’s Grindelwald’s symbol. On your ring. I thought it looked familiar.” He looked at her with a smirk but it was sharp, edged. “Don’t you know it’s offensive to wear a different Lord’s symbol?”

“It’s not his. It’s part of an old Peverell family crest. If anything he wore _my_ symbol.” Her head tilted to the side. “What is your symbol anyway- the snake and skull?”

He nodded, eyeing her. “Where’s your scar?”

She grinned toothily. “Somewhere that’s covered up and no one dares look lest I curse them.” She tried the eggs, voice absent. “I got it magically moved. The goblins are awesome.”

“I suppose then it would be pointless to ask to see it?”

Studying him, she let her lips quirk up. “Yes. The only reason anyone would have for seeing it is if I decided to go skinny dipping in the lake and unfortunately it’s a bit cold outside at the moment.”

He didn’t look amused. “No doing such a thing, no matter the weather.”

She just waved him off. “It was a joke. I’d rather not give Dumbledore more of a reason to try to abduct me and turn me into his light savior. Being a Peverell is bad enough with him.”

“Why?”

“He was just as obsessed with the Peverell line as Grindelwald was- they were lovers as teenagers.” When the man’s eyebrows flew up, she nodded, chuckling softly. “They were near inseparable until they fought over the fact that Grindelwald killed Dumbledore’s sister.”

Thomas hummed in consideration, sitting back and looking as if he was plotting something. “And what was the sister’s name?”

Haresa put her head to the side, resting her head against her fingers. “Arianna. ...May I ask why?”

“I am considering using that little morsel of information to finally get him to resign...” Thomas’s smile was near predatory, even if it lacked humor. “I wish him _out_ of this castle, hence my presence.”

She took a bite of her food, putting her hand up to cover her mouth. “And me.”

He gave her a look as if bidding her explain.

“The tournament. Inviting all of the schools closest to Britain and assuming I wouldn’t have gone overseas- part of your little teacher act was to see if I’d show up.” She smiled at him simply. “Wasn’t it?”

“I get the feeling you know the answer to that question already.” His fingers tapped along the sides of his chair for a moment as she nodded idly before sitting forward so far he was practically off his chair, voice a murmur. “I was doing some reading and it very well turns out that in the older Royal Houses that used to come with land and servants and the whole nine yards… the age of which the title was passed down is not the magical age of adulthood, but instead 21. Four years _after_ adulthood during which the heir is supposed to have gotten at least one mastery to prove their competency.”

Haresa looked away, towards the window, with just a faint frown. “Well, there goes my hope of leaving after the school year. Let me guess- you’re going to tell me that staying wherever you currently reside is in ‘my best interests’?”

Thomas just smiled like the cat that had gotten the canary. “Yes, and later I will let you choose which of the few properties I own you wish to stay at, but for now I wished to tell you of my findings as a way to remind you that we are going to be together for quite a while and that I do not appreciate secrets being _kept_ from me.”

Setting her fork down, she sat back in her seat to look at him flatly. “Even if I am your ward, Tom, do not think for a moment you have the right to demand my secrets from me. I am not a child and you are not my Regent- I have no obligation to tell you anything past skin-level.”

They stared at each other for a moment before he sat back on his chair again and adjusted his suit with a small frown. “I see.”

“Though...” She sighed faintly. “I cannot stop you from asking questions... I just may not answer.”

Nodding slowly, seeming appeased, the man finally picked up his silverware and they ate in silence for a long while.

“Are you my strange girl, Haresa?”

Practically choking on the water in her goblet, coughing into her hand, she looked up incredulously at where he was chuckling softly. “You- you cannot just say things like- like _that_ when I am _drinking_ something!”

“Apologies. It was something I had to ask, see how you responded. I can say that was not the response I was expecting...” He held out a napkin, lips tilted up in amusement. “Are you alright?”

“Fine.” Frowning to herself, she took the napkin and dabbed at her light pajama pants where she’d spilled some water in her surprise. 

Thomas just watched her as she pretended she couldn’t feel his gaze.

_Perhaps it was time._

_Perhaps if he knew one of the three secrets she’d kept so close for so long then he’d be less... overbearing. And anyway, it wasn’t like she was going to get away from him anytime soon- he’d make sure of that._

“You know... I have to give you credit where it’s due.” 

He hummed curiously.

She folded the napkin and set it aside, smoothing it out with her fingers nervously, knowing he’d wait for her to find the right words. “I half expected you to pull me into your arms and never let go when you first saw me. Even as a tiny little terror of a thing in the orphanage, once you learned that I’d give you hugs, you didn’t like letting go just about _ever_.”

Tom breathed out a short breath of air as if he’d been punched. “You-... you remember?”

Tilting her head to the side, she looked at him and smiled faintly. “I could never forget you, Tom.”

“Why- why didn’t you find me? Why, when you got out of that orphanage, didn’t you find one of the families I talked of befriending and come home to me?” His voice was deceptively soft, but there was a layer of both anger and hurt underneath it as his hands curled around the arms of his chair. “Why not give me the relief of knowing you were alive and willing to stay with me this time?”

Her sigh was soft, eyes falling to her hands. “Honestly? I was afraid.”

He was still and silent, seeming to not even be breathing.

“You pointed your wand at me when I was a child because of my name, wrapped in madness and cruelty… and I wasn’t sure that you had room in your heart for your strange girl anymore.” Her eyes closed, not really wanting to see whatever expression he had on his face. “Even hearing about you taking over Britain didn’t fully reassure me- I wasn’t actually planning on telling you until you asked about the orphanage and then I wasn’t sure how mad you’d be at me for not saying something sooner.”

Thomas spoke softly, voice hoarse. “Purge the thought of me being any harm to you from your head. I would _never_.” When she looked up at him, he was holding out a hand to her. “Come here? Please?”

Haresa stood, moving around the table, though she hesitated for just a moment standing at the edge of his reach. “Tell me you’re not upset with me.” When his eyebrows pulled down just slightly, she swallowed. “Please, Tom. I need… I need to hear you say it, even if you don’t mean it.”

“I am not upset with you, darling girl. The environment you were put in and occasionally the actions you made, yes, but not you. Never you in a way that will keep me from wishing you only the best.”

Nodding, she moved to curl up across his lap, letting him wrap around her like some sort of octopus as she just put her head to his chest. “Strange… I was always shorter than you, but never this short. I feel sort of betrayed that I didn’t get to see you graduate.” Her voice was musing. “Two more years…”

Thomas huffed softly. “Two more years in the past doesn’t matter anymore.” When she looked up at him, he grinned. “I’m never letting you go again.”

She snorted softly, feeling the arms constrict slightly until she leaned back into his chest. “Though you haven’t changed that much, even with the years past. You’re still a greedy magpie at heart.” 

“Mmm.” His voice echoed in her chest, vibrations low and making her smile slightly. “Know that I would kill anything that comes between us, because if you aren’t totally okay with that then perhaps you would be best saying such now, my dear.”

“You would let me go? Let me walk out of this room if that was really what I wanted?” She peered at him curiously, skeptical.

Slowly, reluctantly, he let go of her. “If that is _really_ what you want…” Wine-colored eyes peered at her as if memorizing her features- as if he’d really never see her again. “Then I will concede to your wishes and… leave you alone.” The last three words were said with a grimace as if they left a foul taste in his mouth.

Haresa hummed. “I appreciate the option, thank you.” She just put her head back against his chest again, smiling faintly. “But for now I’m fine with angry cuddles.”

“You’re testing my patience, you know.” Arms once again wrapping around her waist like she was being hugged by a boa constrictor rather than a person, he put his forehead to the crown of her head, words a murmur. “Have been since you walked from that lake, beautiful in the late moonlight.”

Reaching her hand up to card through his hair gently, she just hummed. “I thought you had a lot of that sort of thing? I mean waiting, what, almost fifty years to find me again and then losing me for another sixteen years must have required _some_ sort of patience.”

His arms tightened further. “Considering that I went insane and killed more than a few people, I would say that perhaps you have too much faith in me.”

“Are you trying to suffocate me?”

“I’m trying not to give in to the thought that I should bite you like I did when you left if just to make sure you’re real.”

Haresa rolled her eyes and tried to scoot further away from him. “There’s a time and a place for your weird thoughts, Tom, and right now in the middle of the first time we’ve really talked with each other in half a century, isn’t it.”

His fingers curled into her sides. “No?”

Pushing at him and trying to wiggle away, she scowled when he just held on tighter. “Let go of me, Tom.” When he frowned deeply but slowly let go of her, she snorted and moved away enough to actually see his face. “I’m not leaving, nor do I want to argue, but cut me some slack- this is the first time I’ve really gotten the time to admire how you’ve changed.” 

“You just want an excuse to touch me.”

She rolled her eyes at that (though it was partially true), studying his face before reaching up to brush a finger over the edge of his jaw. “Somehow your face got even more angular than it was when you were just made of bones and skin. I didn’t think that was possible.” She poked his cheek and grinned. “Though I think being healthy is a good look on you.”

He just raised an eyebrow, eyes amused as he watched her.

“I wonder...” She pushed the side of his lip up to stare at his canines. “Hmm. Are you sure you’re not a vampire?”

His smile was faint as she took her hand away. “Completely.”

Humming, she gazed at the wine-colored eyes that were staring into her own. “Your eyes are honestly beautiful.” Putting her hands up to his cheeks, she smiled softly. “Stunning. You’re just as handsome as ever, love, and I’m sorry I ever had to leave you.”

Thomas gave a soft breath and then moved to gather her back into his arms, pulling her closer yet again. “Gods, Haresa… I’m never going to get anything done with you around."

Haresa just smiled widely. “That sounds like a _you_ problem.”

“You’re going to kill me.” His voice was soft, barely a murmur.

She patted his cheek gently before standing up and moving back to her own seat. “But this doesn’t mean you can invade my space or I’ll put up with anything overly weird, okay?”

“I’m pretty sure sitting on my lap counts as both being in your space and ‘weird’ considering I’m both a teacher and your Steward.” When she rolled her eyes, he huffed softly. “Ah, I see- when you’re the one to ask for hugs or such invasions of your space, it’s okay, but I’m not allowed to do so without prompting.”

“Balances the power dynamic, don’t you think?” Her lips curved up when his nose twitched slightly, pointing her fork at him. “Stop trying to think of loopholes, Tom, it won’t work.”

He just hummed before smiling at her lopsidedly. “We’ll have to see.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> **Haresa:** I hate being touched. I hate human contact.  
>  **Haresa:** The last time I touched someone was 4 years ago when I punched them.  
>  **Thomas:** You’re literally sitting on my lap.  
>  **Haresa:** This means nothing.  
>  **Thomas:** _*goes to pull away*_  
>  **Haresa:** I _will_ sue you for emotional damages


End file.
